


Extra Credit

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Can't write a teacher/student fic without a spanking scene, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, May/December Relationship, Older Man/Younger Woman, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, honestly, what did you guys expect?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: Stannis Baratheon, 'The Robot', is the vice principal of King’s Landing Academy, and probably the strictest teacher in the entire school. Only the most dedicated nerds ever get the coveted 100% grade in one of Mr. Baratheon’s exams.Sansa doesn't know how she's going to pass his class. Math is her worst subject.





	1. Joffrey's Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This is not going to be a novel length fic! I've got the draft finished, and it's about twenty-five thousand words. So this is going to be nine short chapters and an even shorter epilogue. I might add some stuff as I edit, but this is really just supposed to be a little novella. I hope you guys like it!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** GRRM owns it, I'm just screwing around with his characters.
> 
>   
>  Header by the lovely [sansafeels](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sansafeels/pseuds/sansafeels)

Sansa stared at her schedule in dismay. Math was her worst subject, and she had been hoping that she’d get Baelish again. Baelish was never too hard on her when it came to grading her assignments, and even though it made her skin crawl, she knew that all she had to do to nudge her grade point average up a little higher, was unbutton an extra button on the shirt of her school uniform, lean forward, and giggle at his terrible attempts at humour.

 _Maybe I can get myself transferred to his class?_ she wondered in desperation, staring at the initials on her time table as if the power of her mind could somehow change the little ‘SB’ into a ‘PB’.

SB. Stannis Baratheon. The Robot.

Stannis Baratheon was the vice principal of King’s Landing Academy, and probably the strictest teacher in the entire school. Robb had suffered through one of his math classes a couple of years ago, and Sansa remembered how he’d told Jon that Stannis routinely made students cry during exam season, and took pride in never giving the top grade unless it was thoroughly earned. Only the most dedicated nerds ever got the coveted 100% grade in one of Mr. Baratheon’s exams.

It really was so odd that he was so strict. His brother, Joffrey’s dad, was the principal, and he was not like Stannis at all. When she had been with Joffrey, Robert had always been so nice, and he was still nice to her whenever they ran into each other at school. Stannis, however, had never acted any differently towards her whether they were at dinner parties together or at school. He had never really seemed to notice her at all, in fact. It was therefore highly unlikely that he would give her any special treatment.

Sansa sighed and turned her time table over so that she wouldn’t have to look at the initials anymore. They weren’t going to change, and though she was definitely going to try, she doubted she would be able to get herself transferred.

_I’m doomed._

***

“I love the smell of freshmen in the morning,” Baelish said, inhaling deeply as he walked into the teacher’s lounge, heading straight for the coffee machine. “What a delicious crop of fresh young roses.”

“You’re disgusting,” Stannis muttered, feeling as if he should answer the man since they were the only two people in the lounge. Stannis was sitting in the best armchair, solving the crossword before one of the English teachers got a hold of the paper. It was a ritual Stannis enjoyed at the start of the day. It helped put him in a sharp frame of mind.

“Why be a teacher if you can’t enjoy the perks?” Baelish said unrepentantly as he poured himself coffee. “I mean, let’s be honest, it’s not like we’re in it for the money.”

“We’re ‘in it’ to teach the coming generations important skills and prepare them for the struggles of academia and the job market,” Stannis said, pressing his lips together tightly and glaring at Baelish. _And from what I’ve heard, you don’t need the salary we pay you,_ he added silently, thinking about the rumours about a secret nightclub that had reached his ears.

Baelish waved his coffee cup at him and rolled his eyes. “You need to lighten up. Seriously, when you go to your first class, try looking at the girls instead of the white board or your computer screen.” He took a sip, frowned, and added more milk. “You like redheads, don’t you? Well, you’ve got Sansa Stark this year, and she is just -” Baelish closed his eyes and made moaned like he’d just tasted some gastronomic delight. 

Stannis clenched his jaw tightly and glared more viciously at his colleague, hoping that the ferocity of his expression would disguise the fact that heat was creeping up from his neck to his cheeks. How on earth had Baelish managed to mention the name of the one student that had ever made Stannis look twice?

But the glare did not seem to deter Baelish.

“I lived next door to her mother when we were kids, you know, and I never thought I’d meet a prettier girl than Cat Tully. Honestly, you would not have believed the tits on her. And between you and me, she was rather delicious between the sheets.” Baelish waggled his eyebrows obscenely. “But Sansa has her beat. She even turned eighteen last May - I checked - so you don’t have to feel guilty about appreciating her pretty red hair.”

Stannis grimaced and hid behind his newspaper. He did not want to listen to Baelish brag about his past sexual conquests. Nor did he want to think about Sansa’s hair. It wasn’t the red colour that had made him look twice at her. After the debacle with Melisandre, Stannis really should have been turned off the colour rather than attracted to it.

No, the reason he had noticed Sansa Stark was far more embarrassing.

She had dated his nephew two years ago, and attended several family dinners Robert had thrown. At the very first one she had worn a very pretty dress, but Stannis was used to pretty women in pretty dresses. The dress had not been what had caught Stannis’ attention.

He had gone for a walk in the garden after dinner so that he wouldn’t get stuck listening to Cersei and Robert snipe at each other, and he had seen her. She had been crying very quietly, shaking with the effort of keeping herself silent. He had never seen anything more heart-breaking, and for a second he had considered going to her. Comforting her.

He had felt like a young boy again, faced with an injured goshawk.

Joffrey had appeared before Stannis had been able to do anything. She had flinched away from the boy’s touch, but eventually she had gone inside with him. It had been very clear to Stannis that Joffrey was the reason she had been crying.

Stannis had started to pay close attention to Sansa after that, needing to make sure that Joffrey was not mistreating her. However, the more he’d paid attention, the more he’d started to feel embarrassingly _aware_ of her. Aware of things that a man in his position had no business being aware of. Like how gracefully she moved, the scent of her perfume, the precise shade of her favourite lipstick. 

He had also noticed that she was uncommonly kind, though in many ways she was a typical spoiled teenage girl. He remembered one dinner when she had gone from worrying about a drop of red wine ruining her dress to cleverly distracting Joffrey when he had been about to start bullying Tommen.

That was yet another thing he’d noticed: her cleverness. There was a spark of intellect in her vivid blue eyes that she always tried to hide around Joffrey, but she could not hide it from Stannis.

The more Stannis had noticed her, the more he had been forced to hide his growing contempt for Joffrey.

It hadn’t been jealousy. Stannis would never sink that low. Joffrey was just a horrible excuse for a human being. A horrible excuse for a human being with a girlfriend he did not deserve or appreciate. That was all.

She could do so much better.

The day Sansa and Joffrey had broken up had been a very good day. Stannis had told himself that now that she was safe he’d be able to stop thinking up increasingly outlandish ways to get rid of his nephew, and move on with his life.

Dinner at Robert’s became again the slow torment they had always been without Sansa there to distract him. Robert and Cersei raced each other to the bottom of one bottle of wine after another, Tywin shot barbs about professions that suited ‘real men’ at him, Jaime did little but smirk in that smug way of his, and Tyrion’s ‘wit’ never failed to make Stannis want to grind his teeth. To top it all off, Renly could always be counted upon to make unnecessarily cruel comments about their various acquaintances.

All these things had been more bearable when Sansa had been around.

“All right there, VP?” Baelish asked, sipping his coffee and raising a brow.

Stannis rustled his newspaper and scowled. “Must you speak?”

Baelish didn’t answer. The other teachers had started to file into the lounge, yawning and making a beeline for the coffee machine just as Baelish had.

***

The silence in Stannis’ classroom was absolute. Sansa could hear the boy in front of her breathing, and every time someone turned a page, it sounded like a bomb was going off. But mostly Sansa heard people’s pencils scratching away. Her own pencil was silent.

She looked up at the teacher’s desk, feeling wretched. Stannis Baratheon sat there, his back rigid, his eyes sweeping over the students as they struggled with the fiendishly difficult pop quiz he had sprung on them as soon as they had walked through the door.

 _Who sets an exam in the first period of the first day of school?_ Sansa wondered, her palms sweating uncomfortably as she tried to make sense of the first problem. She didn’t understand it at all. _I’m going to be the worst in the class. I’m going to have to get a tutor. Dad is going to give me his disappointed speech, and Arya’s going to be so obnoxious…_

She looked at the next problem. There was something familiar about it, and Sansa tried her best, but halfway through she started to doubt herself, and she gave up. Whenever she wasn’t _completely_ sure she could get it right, it just didn’t seem worth it to keep trying.

The third problem was a total mystery to her.

She looked at Stannis again, wanting to vent some of her frustration by giving him the evil eye, but nearly stopped breathing when she saw that he was staring right at her. His dark blue eyes were intense and a little scary, so she hurriedly looked back down at her exam paper, her heart racing.

Problem four was actually something she could do, but the rest of the problems were all completely impossible. She tried to start solving a few of them, but she always ran into trouble and stopped halfway through.

When the bell rang, she felt like the stupidest girl in the world. She handed the exam paper in without looking at Stannis, and practically ran to join the stampede of students that were leaving the classroom.

***

Grading Sansa Stark’s exam was incredibly frustrating. She left nearly half the problems completely untouched, and never finished the problems she did attempt to solve, even though she was usually on precisely the right track, and often only a step or two away from the right result. There was only a single problem in the entire exam that she solved to completion.

If this had been her final exam, he would have been forced to fail her.

It just didn’t make any sense. He had set challenging problems, yes, but they were from last year’s syllabus. He had just wanted to see how much attention his students had paid last year, and how much they had forgotten over the summer. It would help him estimate how much time he would need to waste reminding them of things they were already supposed to know.

Apparently, Sansa had forgotten very much over the summer. Either that, or she should never have passed her last final exam with a 78% grade. Baelish’s exams were easier than Stannis’, but surely not by this large a margin.

With a sigh, Stannis got up from the desk in his study. He stretched and walked over to the window, feeling restless and irritated.

 _She can do better,_ he thought, frowning at his ocean view. _I know she can._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was somewhat inspired by the song ['Jesse's Girl'.](https://youtu.be/qYkbTyHXwbs) I do love a jealous Stannis.


	2. Extra Credit

“Miss Stark. A moment, please.”

Everyone else was already leaving, and Sansa had stood up from her chair, ready to follow her classmates. She sank back down, feeling her stomach shrink. _He wants to talk about my grade._

Stannis had handed the exams from his first class back today, and Sansa had received the poorest grade she had ever seen in her entire academic career. Just 23% She had stuffed it into her bag without looking at it properly, and then she had proceeded to pay more attention to Stannis’ lesson than she ever had in her life, thinking that if she studied hard enough, maybe she’d be able to scrape a higher grade next time.

“Come here.”

Sansa went and stood in front of Stannis’ desk.

“I expect you know what this is about,” Stannis said, those dark blue eyes boring into her.

“Yes, Mr. Baratheon.”

“Well? Explain yourself.”

Sansa took a steadying breath and tried to keep her hands from shaking. She had never felt this nervous with a teacher before. Teachers usually always _loved_ her. Miss Mordane, one of her grade school teachers, still smiled at her whenever Sansa ran into her in the shops, and never failed to tell her that Sansa had been her very favourite student of all time.

“I - I’m sorry, I’m just - I’m really bad at math. It’s always been my worst subject, sir. I’m not smart enough.” To Sansa’s horror, she felt tears prickling at her eyes.

“Don’t be absurd,” Stannis said sharply. “There’s nothing wrong with your brain. You might very well have passed the test if you’d finished all the problems you started. You were usually always on the right track.”

Sansa swallowed and looked closely at Stannis, trying to see whether he was making it up. He looked just as serious and severe as ever. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding once. “Now, I want you to take this home and work on it. Hand your solutions in at the beginning of next week.”

 _Extra homework?_ Sansa frowned at the piece of paper Stannis had handed her. It was covered in problems. _This will take up my entire weekend._

“What if I can’t finish them? Like on the exam? What if I can only do half the solution?” Sansa asked anxiously.

“Whenever you run into trouble, write down what it is that’s confusing you, and move onto the next problem.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “Oh. but sir, will this count toward my final grade?”

“No.” Stannis scowled. “But you won’t be able to keep up with this class if you’re not able to solve problems that you were supposed to learn how to solve last year, so this is not something you can afford to skip.”

“I would never skip it just because it doesn’t count toward my final grade, sir,” Sansa hurriedly said, feeling herself blush.

Stannis searched her face, and for a moment Sansa felt as if his eyes had softened. But she blinked and then he was looking at her with his face as harsh as ever. “Good. You may go.”

***

Stannis blew out a long breath.

It all made sense, now. Whenever Sansa began to doubt whether she was using the right method to solve a problem, she gave up rather than seeing things through to the end. She knew how to do the math, but she lacked confidence in herself, and placed too much of an emphasis on getting everything perfect. 

Didn’t she know that most teachers would always award points for using the correct method, even if she made minor mistakes along the way? Didn’t she know it was better to receive some credit for trying, even though she wouldn’t score a full house of points each time?

Stannis put Sansa’s homework down, stood up, and started to pace. He was still at the school even though it was quite late. He had just wanted to take a quick look at the assignment Sansa had handed in, but the quick look had turned into a prolonged exploration, which had led to a series of discoveries about how Sansa’s mind seemed to work.

It was - sadly - nothing new for a young woman to be less confident in her abilities than even some of the most idiotic of the young men, but it was almost tragic to see how much she was holding herself back because she seemed to think everything needed to be perfect. Stannis appreciated an elegant solution as much as the next math teacher, but elegance and perfection weren’t always necessary. Sometimes an answer was just as correct even though it had been discovered using a few detours.

He wanted to drive over to Ned Stark’s house and tell her this at once, possibly while grasping her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes, but that would be inappropriate and ridiculous.

***

“You’re doing math homework? Again?” Jeyne scrunched up her nose. “You promised you’d have more free time this weekend. We were going to see the new Batman film, remember?”

“I didn’t realise Mr. Baratheon would give me an extra weekend assignment again,” Sansa said, frowning down at her calculator. It was showing her an answer that didn’t make any sense.

“Does it count toward your final grade?” Jeyne asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, no…”

“Then come to the movies!”

“I can’t. I need to do well in the next exam, or my dad will -”

“He’ll what? Give you his disappointed speech?” Jeyne rolled her eyes. “Big deal.”

“It _is_ a big deal. Please just let me study.”

“Fine, you big nerd.” Jeyne smiled to soften the insult, and left Sansa’s room soon after.

Sansa felt a little guilty about lying to Jeyne. The reason she was studying so hard had nothing to do with her dad and his speeches. The reason she was studying so hard was _Stannis._

Stannis had handed her first weekend assignment back with an avalanche of helpful comments and suggestions that had made her feel - for the first time in her life - like she was actually _good_ at math. Again and again, Stannis’ comments were about how she was absolutely right, and how all she needed to do was take that step, or this step, and the problem would be solved. And the assignment she was working on now even had a short note from him at the top, ordering her to trust her instincts. His handwriting was very even and precise, and he made his ‘s’ a lot like she made hers.

She had been a teacher’s pet her entire life, so receiving encouraging comments from a teacher was nothing new to her, but receiving comments like these from a teacher like _Stannis?_ It felt special somehow, and it made her want to work harder than ever to make him proud. She wanted to live up to his expectations.

Anyway, Jeyne aside, it wasn’t as if she had much of a social life waiting for her. After Joffrey broke up with her, Sansa had been summarily rejected from the popular clique at school. She sat alone during lunch - Jeyne couldn’t sit with her since she attended King’s Landing High, not King’s Landing Academy - and mostly just tried to keep her head down.

 _I might as well just become a nerd,_ Sansa thought, smiling wryly at her assignment.

***

Stannis felt almost like he was one of the students. His heart was beating hard, and his palms were sweaty under his desk. But unlike his students, he wasn’t nervous about the exam they were takings. He was anxious for Sansa. He had been coaching her for the past four weeks, and now it was time for the first exam that would actually count towards her final grade. He genuinely wanted her to do well, but he was worried that she would make the mistake of not trusting herself, and give up halfway through the tricky problems he had set.

Every time she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, every time she lifted her pencil uncertainly from the page, and every time she dove for her eraser, he felt as if he were on the verge of a heart attack. He was fairly sure he wasn’t betraying his internal struggle on the surface, but he still wished there was a way for him to calm down.

He was only able to calm down when she handed her exam paper in and gave him a nervous little smile. He doubted she would have smiled if she had felt very terrible about her performance.

Stannis deliberately saved her paper for last when the time came to grade the exams, and ended up going through the pile more quickly than ever. He was desperately curious to know how she had done. It was after midnight by the time he was finished with all the others, but he was wide awake as he read through her calculations. Her handwriting was always neat and pretty, and thankfully easy to read. There was nothing more annoying than a barely legible scrawl. 

Stannis sat back in his chair once he was done, his red pen heavy in his hand. Though she fell into several of his nastier traps, she passed the test with a respectable 68% grade. He knew she mostly always scored above 80% in all her other classes, however, and suspected she’d probably be disappointed. This made him feel strangely dismayed.

 _Stop being absurd,_ he told himself. _She did better than a quarter of her classmates. She has no business feeling disappointed._

Still, the odd sinking feeling in his stomach followed him to bed.

***

Sansa lingered in her seat as her classmates filed out. Stannis had handed the first exam that actually _counted_ back today, and though Sansa was overcome with relief at actually having _passed,_ she couldn’t help but feel disappointed when she saw how many mistakes she had made.

She had studied so _hard._ She had actually started to believe that she was good at this stupid subject. Had Stannis’ encouraging comments just been empty words? Were her instincts actually just rubbish?

“Miss Stark? May I help you?”

Sansa took a deep breath and approached Stannis’ desk. They were alone now.

“I want to know what I can do to improve my grade, sir.”

“This was only the first exam. If you do well in the next ones, your average will go up.”

“That’s what I meant,” Sansa said, feeling herself blush under his intense stare. “I want to know how to get better at this. I’ve been studying as hard as I can, and I really don’t know what more I can do.”

“Practise, Miss Stark. Spend time on this. That’s all you can do. Or you could get a tutor, I suppose,” Stannis said, rubbing his temple. He looked tired, suddenly. “But you’re doing better than many of your classmates. You’ll be able to pass this class just fine on your own.”

“But not with a very good grade,” Sansa argued, unable to resist the urge to pout. She knew it was childish, but she couldn’t help it. The look on Arya's face if she found out Sansa needed a tutor was swimming in front of her mind's eye.

“Grades aren’t everything, Miss Stark.” His eyes lingered on her lips for long enough for her to notice, and her stomach did a tiny flip.

_Is it actually working?_

She decided to test the waters a little and exaggerated her pout just a tiny bit more. “Please, sir, my grades really matter to me, and I just - isn’t there some extra credit I could do?” She made her eyes as wide and pleading as she possibly could without it looking ridiculous. (A couple of years ago, when she had wanted to go on a camping trip with Joffrey and his friends, she had practised this look in the mirror to use it on her father. It had _almost_ worked.)

Stannis regarded her stiffly for a long moment. He looked as severe as always, but Sansa was almost sure his skin was a little less pale. “Extra credit?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “You know, like extra homework I could hand in to bring my grade up?”

Stannis snorted. “Extra homework for you is just more homework I’d be required to grade. I do have plenty of work to do, Miss Stark. I am the vice principal of this school.”

“Well, I could assist you with some of your workload!” Sansa exclaimed, uttering the idea as soon as it occurred to her. “You’re teaching the freshmen too, aren’t you?”

Stannis furrowed his brow suspiciously. “... Yes.” 

“I could grade their assignments for you. I should be able to handle that. And maybe getting a better grasp on the basics will help me with my own work?”

Stannis frowned, clearly unconvinced.

“Please?” she begged, fluttering her eyelashes and trying not to grimace as she imagined how this conversation would have gone if she were talking to Mr. Baelish. He would probably have started staring at her breasts by now. But then again, if Stannis were Mr. Baelish, her grades would be higher, and she wouldn’t need to beg for extra credit.

“I will consider it.”

 _That means yes,_ Sansa thought, suppressing a victorious smile.

“Thank you, sir. Please let me know what you decide.”

Stannis gave her one of his stiff nods, and she practically floated from the classroom. Getting Stannis Baratheon to give extra credit was unheard of.

 _Who knew he’d be so susceptible to a little pouting?_ Sansa thought, wondering with an embarrassed blush what else he might be susceptible to. The cleavage and giggling combo was highly unlikely to work, but maybe if she ‘accidentally’ brushed up against him…

She hurriedly pushed the thought from her mind. Stannis was a very serious man, and was just concerned with providing her with an education. She was doing him a disservice by letting her silly brain take her on a flight of fancy. It didn’t matter how interesting it would be to see such a straight-laced, uptight man lose his composure; she needed to be respectful.

Anyway, she was starting to really like him, weirdly enough. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise the good relationship they were building. And it would be nice to earn a higher maths grade fair and square, for once.


	3. Footsie

Sansa’s hand brushed his for the third time in as many days, and Stannis was starting to think she was doing it on purpose.

Did she know how it made his breath hitch in his throat? How it made him want to close his eyes and savour the way his nerve endings tingled? Was he being too obvious?

He looked at her, trying to ascertain whether the touch had been purposeful, but she was bent over her work again, a furrow of concentration marring her brow.

Stannis knew he should call this experiment to an end. It had been two weeks since Sansa had started helping him with his workload, and every hour he spent in her presence was torture. The way her scent filled his office while she was in there with him drove him to distraction, and the sight of her, diligently working on the other side of his own desk, always made him want to stare.

He had never been remotely aroused by the school’s uniform before, but these days he found himself admiring the way the white shirt emphasised Sansa’s flawless skin, and the way the pleated skirt brushed her knees when she moved. She always wore her tie properly knotted unless it was the end of the day. At the end of the day she would sometimes loosen it, and unbutton a few shirt buttons. Stannis was starting to live for those days, and it was just not _decent._

He knew he should save himself from temptation and tell her that she had done enough extra credit, that he no longer required her help, and that she should run along. However, she was quite good at grading freshmen homework assignments, and it seemed to be increasing her confidence with her own work. Her grades were improving. He could see a marked difference in each homework assignment she handed in.

“Mr. Baratheon?”

“Yes?” Somehow he managed not to sound guilty.

“Thank you for letting me help you with this,” she said, not meeting his eyes. Was she blushing?

“You’re competent and willing to do the work. That’s all there is to it. There’s no need to thank me,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

“No, I just meant - I meant that it’s nice having a place to go at school. Somewhere I’m welcome.”

Stannis frowned at her. “Your parents have paid your enrollment fee. You are as welcome as any other student.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and made a bitter, derisive sound that sounded all wrong coming from her. She was the sort of girl who was made to smile, laugh, and sound _happy._

“What’s that noise supposed to mean?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Only that you must have noticed that I don’t have any friends here,” Sansa said, looking down at her lap. “I’m always alone unless I’m with you.”

The feeling that Stannis had felt when he had seen her cry in Robert’s garden overcame him again. It was a powerful mixture of sympathy and the strong urge to care for her. Somewhere at the back of his mind, his memories of Proudwing stirred.

_I could be your friend._

“You’re always welcome,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. Then his brain caught up and he cleared his throat. “I mean, I can always use the help.”

She smiled at him. Genuine and _beautiful._ “Thank you.”

It was the sort of smile that could warm a man to the very depths of his being, but Stannis tried not to let it. It wasn’t right that Sansa was alone and friendless, and he should not enjoy reaping the benefits of it. She should not be turning to a grumpy old teacher for friendship. She should be saving her smiles for someone who deserved them.

_Fool. She doesn't want you._

But no matter how often he resolved to do so, he couldn’t ask her to leave.

***

Sansa liked the way Stannis let her share his desk rather than making her drag a student desk from one of the classrooms into his office. She liked sitting across from him, able to breathe in the pleasant clean smell of him and the faint traces of his aftershave, and able to examine his features when he was lost in his work, unaware of her gaze. She liked how focused he always was, and she liked studying his expressions. She could always tell whether or not his work was pleasing him. When he was irritated, his customary scowl got deeper and his brows heavier. That would have been obvious to anyone. But when he was enjoying his work it was harder to tell. He would still scowl, but his eyes seemed to lighten, and his shoulders would become less tense.

His shoulders always became less tense when she walked into his office.

After she noticed that, and after he told her she was always welcome, she had worked up the courage to start going to his office during lunch. He had looked very startled the first time she had shown up with her sandwich in tow, but he had wordlessly offered her a seat.

Most of the teachers ate their lunch in the teacher’s lounge, but Sansa had suspected that Stannis would work as he ate. She therefore kept quiet for the first couple of lunches, letting him work in peace, watching in disapproval when he failed to eat most of his food. He had never eaten much at the dinner parties at Joffrey’s house, either.

The third time she joined him for lunch she couldn’t keep silent.

“You should eat properly, sir,” she heard herself say. Out loud. _Oh, gods._

Stannis looked up at her, his expression a bit cross. “What?”

She felt herself blush, and she considered backing out of the conversation. She could say it was nothing and just keep silent. That was probably what she should do. Yes. 

“You never finish your food.”

“Concern yourself with your own food, Miss Stark,” Stannis snapped, looking impatient and mildly offended.

She looked down at her lap. _Shut up. Just shut up._ “Are you worried you’ll end up looking like the principal if you finish a meal?”

“Miss Stark!”

Sansa really didn’t know what was wrong with her, and when she looked up she was fully prepared to apologise. But what she saw when she met Stannis’ eyes put her at ease.

Stannis looked _amused._ He was trying very hard to look offended, but his eyes were betraying him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said meekly, looking back down at her lap -- mostly to hide a smile.

They were quiet for an awkward moment.

“I enjoy swimming,” Stannis suddenly said, breaking the silence. He took his glasses off and polished them.

For a second, Sansa was confused. His statement seemed completely random. But after a pause, Sansa realised what he meant. _He doesn’t think he has to worry about ever looking like Robert because he exercises._

“All the more reason to eat properly, sir,” Sansa said, miraculously keeping a straight face. “Swimming burns a lot of calories. You need to keep your strength up.”

Stannis’ lips twitched as he replaced his glasses on his nose.

After that, they always talked a bit during lunch, and Stannis usually made sure to pointedly clean his plate.

She liked talking to him. He talked to her like she was a grown-up, and listened to her opinions as if they were just as valid as his own.

She liked his voice, too. It was different to listen to him when he wasn’t using the ‘teacher voice’ he always used when he was lecturing. He sounded less… severe. His voice was lower, and a little graveled. It made something inside her feel tight and and a little on edge.

Most of all, she _really_ liked the way their hands would sometimes touch when they both reached for an assignment from the same pile of paper, or when they both needed the stapler at the same time, or the best calculator.

She tried and tried to keep herself in line, but the temptation proved too much to resist. Some of her touches became less than accidental, and Sansa’s stomach never failed to fill with butterflies when she noticed him redden in response to those fleeting little brushes of skin against skin.

He never said anything or did anything about it, so Sansa was sure he didn’t know that she sometimes touched him on purpose.

Today she discovered a new way to touch him.

Usually she sat with her feet hooked around the legs of her chair, but today she had felt like crossing her legs under the desk, and her foot had nudged his calf at one point. He had looked up at that, and she had muttered a quick apology. They had gone back to work.

The next time her foot nudged his calf, it was not an accident. He looked up again, giving her a sharp look. She fluttered her eyelashes innocently. They went back to work.

She made sure to let a fair bit of time go by between every touch, and she always kept them quick.

Stannis was bright red by the end of the hour, and Sansa’s breathing had gone a bit shallow.

 _Last one,_ Sansa promised herself for the third time, building her courage and moving her foot once more.

This time Stannis caught her. Just as she brushed his calf, his eyes locked on hers and held her still. She felt as if he’d turned her to stone or frozen her, and couldn’t take her foot out of contact with him.

“Miss Stark. I believe you have a class to get to,” Stannis said after an eternity, his voice a low rasp.

Heat moved through her in a way she had never experienced before, pooling low in her belly and making her long for… something. It was a little like how she had felt when she had first fooled around with Joffrey, before the first time he made her cry. She would never forget how their first kiss had made her heart flutter, but this was ten times more intense.

Sansa swallowed and nodded, unable to speak. She placed both feet on the floor and stood up.

“I’ll see you later, sir.”

He gave her a jerky nod, but said nothing.

Her heart was still hammering when Mr. Varys started his lesson, and it took her ten whole minutes to fight her way out of the daze Stannis had put her in, and start taking notes.

***

Stannis managed to control himself until he got home, but as soon as he was through his front door, his hand was over his groin, cupping his growing erection and rubbing it through his trousers. He staggered to the downstairs toilet, unbuckling his belt, undoing his fly, and pushing his boxer briefs down as he moved. He hissed as his hand finally wrapped around his bare cock, and didn’t care when his trousers and boxers slid to his ankles. He braced one hand against the tiles over the toilet while he fisted his cock with the other, pumping furiously and biting his tongue.

He closed his eyes and recalled Sansa’s face. The look in her eyes when he caught her touching his leg with her foot _on purpose._ He was sure she had been doing it on purpose. He had seen it in her startled gaze. There had been guilt and arousal in those blue depths, and her cheeks had been flushed pink.

 _I didn’t imagine it,_ he told himself as he thrust into his hand, a grunt of effort escaping him. He was sweating, and his breathing was completely erratic.

The past weeks had been torture. Eating with her, talking to her, getting to _know_ her…

He knew it was wrong, but he had started to imagine that they weren’t teacher and student. He had started to let himself believe - during their lunches - that they were simply a man and a woman taking their first steps towards a courtship. It was a dangerous fantasy, and so far he had been keeping it from consuming his mind by reminding himself that his inappropriate attraction was one-sided.

His hand tightened around his cock. _It’s not one-sided._

A new fantasy filled his mind after that - filthy ideas about what he could have done differently earlier. Rather than send her along to her next class, he could have bent her over his desk and fucked her until her knees went weak.

His hand moved faster.

He could almost _hear_ the way she would have moaned, almost _feel_ how wet she would have been for him…

His fantasy mutated, and suddenly he was with Sansa in his bed upstairs; she was lying beneath him, her long legs wrapped around him, her nails digging into his back, as he worked himself into her slowly and gently.

_Oh, Stannis… please… it’s so good… I love you so much…_

Stannis cried out and came all over his hand in a sudden, violent burst. Sansa’s sweet voice was still echoing in his imagination.

For a minute or so, he felt nothing but sticky warmth and a peaceful sense of satisfaction.

After that, the lead weight that had been growing day by day for the past weeks settled in the pit of his stomach again.

_Fuck._


	4. Christmas Shopping

The tentative friendship - if it could be called a friendship - that had been growing between her and Stannis went on hold as the winter holidays approached and Sansa’s workload increased. She had several essays to write and exams to cram for, and Stannis had a great deal of his own work to do.

But Sansa knew that she and Stannis weren’t just seeing less of each other because they were busy. Stannis was avoiding her. She had gone too far the afternoon when she had played that drawn out game of footsie with him, and she had ruined _everything._ She could just feel it.

It hurt to think of it, but thankfully Sansa had so much work to do that she hardly had time to eat or sleep, much less be depressed about the mess she had made.

A tiny ray of hope parted the clouds of her existence when the time came to sit Stannis’ last exam before the holidays. She had been struggling with a problem and letting her old doubts creep in, but Stannis had caught her eye from his desk and given her one of his firm little nods. 

_You can do this. Trust your instincts._

She finished the exam, smiled at Stannis as she handed her calculations in, and left the classroom feeling happier than she had felt in weeks.

Sansa knew it was wrong, but that night - when she was in bed and it was very late - she thought back to the moment when Stannis had looked at her and given her that encouraging nod. She imagined that nothing was ruined. She imagined that she would see him tomorrow, and they would talk about everything and nothing, and that she would be able to tease one of those little blink-and-you’d-miss-them smiles he sometimes gave her out of him.

She imagined him telling her that he had missed her, that she was his favourite student... his favourite girl. _Woman._

She touched herself, blushing and hiding her face among her pillows, lying on her stomach with her hand trapped between her thighs.

She imagined him wrapping his arms around her. Kissing her. Whispering things in her ear in that low, raspy voice. She imagined - not for the first time - what he might look like without his clothes on. Maybe coming out of the swimming pool? The mental image came easily to her: his tall form almost completely on display, narrow hips and broad shoulders and tight swim trunks that left little to the imagination… All dripping wet with his hair slicked back and his glasses missing, making his face look a little vulnerable...

Writhing about and wriggling her fingers wasn’t working. She tucked her duvet between her thighs, grinding against it, feeling hot and sweaty and a little ashamed.

Stannis’s voice grew more insistent in her imagination, praising her, encouraging her, _adoring her._

The shame fell away for long enough for her to rock desperately against the duvet, using her hands to press it tighter against the throbbing centre of her being, jolts of pleasure making her body twitch and her breath hitch.

_Yes. Gods. Yes..._

The shame came back much too soon, and Sansa promised herself she wouldn’t think about Stannis this way again, even though she was almost certain it was a promise she wouldn’t be able to keep.

***

Stannis stared at the total he had just calculated. It was not quite what she might have earned if she had taken Baelish’s exam, but it was excellent nonetheless. He hadn’t needed to go easy on her at all as he graded the exam, either. She had earned this through hard work and dedication.

Numbers didn’t lie.

He allowed himself a proud smile for a moment, and imagined what her reaction would be when she found out. She’d give a smile, surely? One of those big genuine ones that made her eyes light up...

Then he imagined what her reaction would be if she were _his._

A celebratory hug perhaps?

A kiss?

He took a deep breath and forced himself to stop letting himself get carried away. He had more work to do, and Sansa wasn’t his. She never would be. Even if it was what she wanted, what they both wanted, it wasn’t _appropriate._

_I must continue to keep my distance._

_I must._

His hands were shaking, so he curled them into fists, clenching his jaw tightly.

***

Sansa’s fall grade ended up being 76% overall, and as Robb had only scored 72% when he’d had Stannis as a teacher - Sansa had checked - she was utterly pleased with herself. Certainly it was her lowest grade, but it was similar to what she had usually scored in mathematics. However, she actually felt as if she’d earned the grade honestly this time around. Even if she _had_ managed to make Stannis like her before she had ruined everything, she knew better than to think he would ever give out an undeserved grade. He was just not that sort of person, and she really respected that about him.

With a sigh, Sansa pushed her thoughts of Stannis aside and tried to focus on reading the bus schedule. She hardly ever took the bus, and she wasn’t sure she was understanding the schedule correctly. Was it possible that the next bus wouldn’t come until half an hour from now?

_I should never have let Jeyne talk me into this. I should have done my Christmas shopping with Mum, like always._

Sansa gripped her shopping bags more tightly and narrowed her eyes at the bus schedule. Jeyne said taking the bus was easy. And it had been easy when they had taken it together. But now Jeyne had gone off with some friends of hers from KLH, and Sansa was all alone. Jeyne had wanted Sansa to stay and hang out with her other friends, but she had been tired, and dreaming of the warmth of her room at home.

The bus schedule remained stubbornly convinced that the next bus to her part of town would not be along for ages, and Sansa exhaled a cloud of mist in frustration. She really wasn’t dressed to hang around outside for half an hour. Not in this cold.

“Miss Stark?”

Sansa’s heart missed a beat. _Stannis?_ She turned around and came face to face with a much less welcome sight.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Baelish.”

“You’re waiting for the bus?” Mr. Baelish asked, raising a brow in concern. “In this cold?”

“It’ll be along in just a few minutes. I’m fine, sir.”

“Nonsense. Let me give you a lift.”

Sansa hesitated. Mr. Baelish sometimes gave off a sleazy vibe, but he had never done anything harmful. He had never tried to pinch her ass or anything like that, either. Accepting a lift from him was probably quite safe.

“All right. Thank you, sir.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Baelish smiled briefly, but somehow it didn’t seem quite genuine. He held out a hand and looked at her bags. “Here, let me carry those for you. I was just walking back to my car. It’s parked over by the school.”

Sansa let him carry her shopping bags and they started walking.

“I thought school was out?” she asked, wondering why Mr. Baelish had parked by the academy.

“Faculty meeting today,” Mr. Baelish explained. “I decided to do a spot of shopping myself after it finished, but you know how hard it is to get parking in this part of town. It didn’t seem worth it to move the car.”

“Did you manage to get any shopping done?” she asked, recalling that Mr. Baelish hadn’t been carrying any bags when he’d found her.

“A couple of things. I’ll show you when we get to the car. You’ll like them. They’re small and sparkly.” He gave her another disingenuous smile. She forced herself to smile back.

He asked her how she’d done on her exams. She told him.

“Gracious,” he said when she told him her mathematics grade. “Stannis must have been feeling very generous.”

Sansa’s stomach shrank. “What do you mean?” But she knew what he meant. He meant that he didn’t believe she had earned the grade with hard work. And why should he? She had never worked particularly hard when he had taught her. He hadn’t encouraged her to.

“Oh, nothing, my dear.” He muttered something about someone liking redheads after all, but Sansa wasn’t sure she heard him right.

King’s Landing Academy came into view, and Sansa could see that there were only two cars on the lot. Thankfully one needed a special pass to park there, or Sansa was sure there would be holiday shoppers in every spot.

“Speak of the devil,” Mr. Baelish said, looking at the school rather than at the parking lot. Sansa followed his eyes to the front door, and saw that Stannis was locking it, a briefcase tucked under one arm.

Stannis spotted them, and they all ended up standing near the two parked cars, puffs of mist rising up as they exhaled.

“Good afternoon,” Stannis said, his brow furrowed. He was looking at Mr. Baelish and the shopping bags, clearly reading the logos. Forever 21, Victoria’s Secret, Chanel, Sephora… None of the shops were likely to contain anything a man like Mr. Baelish might have been buying for himself, Sansa realised. It was obvious that he was carrying her bags.

_What if Stannis thinks Mr. Baelish took me shopping?_

“Good afternoon, Mr. Baratheon,” Sansa said, hurrying to speak, anxious to prevent any misunderstanding from taking place. “Mr. Baelish saw me waiting for the bus and very kindly offered to carry my bags and give me a lift home.”

“I see.”

There was an awkward silence, and it seemed to Sansa that Stannis and Mr. Baelish were having a nonverbal conversation with their eyes.

“Well, we’ll just be on our way then,” Mr. Baelish suddenly said, laughing a fake little laugh.

“Don’t be absurd. I’ll take Miss Stark home. I live just a few streets over from the Stark residence.”

Mr. Baelish’s eyes became very cold, but Stannis glared back just as coldly. The staring contest seemed to go on forever, but eventually Mr. Baelish spoke. “I - of course. I’ll see you both after the holidays. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” Sansa said, accepting her bags from Mr. Baelish.

He went to his car and took off without another word.

“I’m just parked over here,” Stannis said unnecessarily after a few beats, gesturing at the only car that was left in the lot, and not meeting her eyes. He silently held out his hand for her bags, and she handed them over with a blush. Somehow it felt a lot more intimate to let Stannis hold her shopping than it had felt with Mr. Baelish. Especially now that she was thinking about the new lingerie set she had treated herself to. (It went so well with the new dress she had bought for New Year’s Eve.)

Stannis’ car was quite nice. It was black and sleek and foreign. The interior smelled just like Stannis always did: of soap and traces of aftershave. There was also the heady scent of fresh leather, which made Sansa want to close her eyes and inhale as deeply as she could.

They drove in silence for several minutes.

“I didn’t know you lived near my house, sir,” Sansa said, feeling curious.

“I’m on Regent Street, Stannis said, no taking his eyes off the road.

“Oh, that _is_ close.”

There was another long silence. Sansa kept glancing at Stannis, trying to read his mood. Should she apologise for what she had done in his office all those days ago? Tell him she wanted things to go back to how they’d been?

The words got stuck in her throat.

“I’d stay away from Mr. Baelish outside of school if I were you,” Stannis suddenly said. They were idling at an intersection, waiting for a green light. He looked at her with his sharp eyes, and for a moment Sansa almost thought he looked jealous. But it was a fleeting look, replaced almost immediately with genuine concern.

“Why?”

Stannis swallowed and put the car into first. The light was going from red to yellow. They started moving again.

“There have been rumours about him and his extracurricular activities. I shan’t repeat them as they are unsubstantiated, but I would still advise you to steer clear of him when you’re not at school.”

“Yes, sir.”

Silence again, even longer than the ones that had come before.

“Do you think I’ll be able to do extra credit with you during the spring term?” Sansa blurted out, unable to sit quietly any longer.

Stannis gave her a quick glance, his eyes returned to the road almost at once. “I - I’m not sure that would be wise.” His voice had become hoarse and low, and Sansa bit her lip at the sound of it.

“Wise, sir?” she asked, doing her best not to sound breathless, but failing rather badly.

She saw his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel, and the muscles of his jaw tense.

“Don’t play dumb, Miss Stark, it doesn’t suit you.”

Sansa’s heart felt like it was beating its way out of her chest. Was he actually acknowledging that there was something going on between them? Or did he just mean that she had acted inappropriately towards him, and that he didn’t want it to happen again?

“I’m sorry about what I did,” she said, the words spilling out uncontrollably. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just… I like you. You’re interesting and I like talking to you, and - and you’ve been so kind to me, and you’re the first person who has ever told me I’m any good at maths, and I’m not lonely at school anymore because of you, and I - I think you smell good.” She snapped her mouth shut and winced. _I think you smell good?_ What was wrong with her?

Stannis said nothing. His knuckles were still white. Sansa held her breath.

Suddenly they weren’t moving anymore, and Sansa looked around in confusion. Were they at her house already? The view outside the windows wasn’t familiar, however. They were in a parking lot outside a big grocery store. She looked at Stannis, a question on the tip of her tongue.

He was staring at her in a way that made her blush more deeply than she ever had in her life. It was not a blush of embarrassment, however. She just felt… hot.

“You... like me?” he repeated, still staring.

 _Back out. Back out now. Tell him you just like him as a friend. You’re ruining it!_ She was burning up. “Very much.” Her voice was hushed and oddly throaty.

He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked pained. “Miss Stark…”

“Do you like me?” she blurted. Her brain wasn’t functioning. Too hot.

Again that stare. No glasses to shield her from it this time. Just those dark blue eyes... piercing her soul.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her lips parted of her own accord, and her chest heaved as she struggled to get some air.

“Do I… ?” He drew in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. When they opened they made her heart stop. “Forgive me,” he said in a choked whisper. She barely had time to wonder what for before he leant over, cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She froze for a moment, terror and excitement flooding her with hormones that made her heart race and her blood pound in her ears. She had imagined something like this happening a few times, but it had always just been a fantasy. She had never expected it to become _real._ She had never expected a grown, serious man like Stannis to really notice her in this way. Her instincts were telling her to do two things at once. One set of instincts, ruled by fear, was telling her to run. But her courage had not abandoned her. A bold voice in the back of her mind was telling her to kiss him back.

Bravery won the day.

Her heart still racing, she parted her lips and turned her head a little, trying to indicate that she was willing and ready for more.

Stannis’ tongue was warm and wet, and having it in her mouth felt shocking and odd and more thrilling than anything that had ever happened to her. This was completely different from the kisses she had shared with Joffrey. This was a lot less slobbery and a lot more intense. And Stannis didn’t bite, though he did suck on her bottom lip in a way that teased an involuntary moan from her.

He pulled back, breathing hard. He replaced his glasses on his nose and placed both his hands back on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead at the billboard they were parked in front of. It advertised a two for one special on some kind of generic soda.

“Forgive me,” he said again, sounding strained and guilty. “That was highly inappropriate.”

“I liked it,” Sansa said, gathering her courage once more to reach out and touch his knee. He jumped a bit at the contact, but didn’t tell her off.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he muttered, tearing his glasses off again, squeezing his eyes shut, and rubbing his face with one hand.

“Please kiss me again, sir,” she asked, wanting to distract him from whatever train of thought that was making him so unhappy.

He made a pained sound and replaced his glasses. “Don’t call me sir right now.”

“What should I call you?”

He looked at her, and his mouth opened and closed a few times. “Stannis,” he said at length, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a long breath. “Fuck,” he added, muttering the curse under his breath. 

“Please kiss me again, Stannis,” she breathed, trying to make it as clear as she could that she was missing his lips more than she could express.

He looked at her, groaned, and leant over to kiss her again.

Their second kiss was even more passionate than the first. Stannis buried one hand in her hair, and she daringly stroked his cheek and jaw in return. Their tongues teased and explored, and the slippery sensations sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. By the time they parted she was squirming in her seat.

“Maybe we should go to your house?” she suggested, touching her lips briefly to feel how they had swollen up. “We should probably talk…”

Stannis inhaled, his nostrils flaring, and started the car again.


	5. In Too Deep

Stannis wasn’t sure what had possessed him to kiss Sansa. Hearing her sincere speech about how she liked him, and how she eased her loneliness had just… done something to him.

 _You ease my loneliness, too,_ he wanted to say. _I want you so much it hurts._

But he couldn’t say those things. He shouldn’t even think those things. Just like he shouldn’t be letting her into his home and getting aroused at the thought of kissing her again.

He had tried to stay away from her. He had avoided her like the plague after he lost control of himself and jerked off to thoughts of her like a dirty pervert. _No. I was worse than a dirty pervert._ A dirty perversion could feasibly be dealt with. Enough time with his hand and it would be done. But he had fantasised about more than just bending Sansa over his desk. He had imagined her in his _bed._ He had behaved like a lovestruck old fool, and that sort of thing was much harder to overcome.

It was a relief when she took off her winter coat in his foyer to reveal a dress that looked nothing like her school uniform. It was easier to cope with all of this when he could try to forget that she was his _student._

She looked very mature in the deep green dress.

_She’s an eighteen year old woman. She’s of age. This isn’t illegal._

Stannis visualised himself pushing the little devil on his shoulder into an active volcano. _I would fire any teacher at the school if I found out they’d slept with a student. I should resign just for kissing her._

“Have a seat,” he said, after leading Sansa to his modest, minimalist living room. After his parents had died, he’d inherited quite a bit of money just as his brothers had, and his salary was more than decent, but as it was just him, it had seemed wasteful to buy a huge house. Perhaps if he were to marry he would consider something bigger, but he had never met the right woman.

Somehow he just never had much luck with the opposite sex. The ones that seemed interested in him usually never attracted his interest in return, and when a mutual spark was to be found it had never ended very well. His memories of Melisandre and her fanaticism hovered at the edge of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him, but he managed to push them away. He needed to focus on Sansa right now.

Sansa was sitting on his sofa, looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. She seemed both anxious and excited, which didn’t really make sense.

He sat down, too.

Finding the words was hard, but eventually he managed to force himself to speak. 

“We mustn’t do this. I was very wrong to kiss you, and it must not happen again. Do you understand?”

Sansa’s eyes filled with sadness, but she averted them quickly, sparing him the heartbreaking visual. “But I like you,” she said in a small voice.

“Our feelings don’t matter,” Stannis said, curling his hands into fists. “Propriety is what matters here. And your future. If our relationship were to be discovered -”

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”

Stannis sighed. “Someone might see us.”

“Not if we’re careful,” she argued, inching closer to him and giving him a hopeful look. “I like kissing you…”

He felt as if she were tugging on his heartstrings, and he closed his eyes for a moment to block out the tempting sight of her.

“We can’t,” he bit out, “your reputation, my reputation and the _school’s_ reputation would be in peril.”

“Well… I’m not a student right now. School isn’t in session. We’re just two adults on winter holiday,” Sansa said, inching still closer to him. Her hand was on his thigh. She licked her lips.

 _She has a point,_ the devil on his shoulder said. Apparently the bastard was immune to lava.

Her hand was moving up his thigh, and to his horror, his cock started to harden in response. Hurriedly, he covered her hand with his, stopping her progress.

But he knew at once that he’d made a fatal mistake. Holding her hand just felt _so right,_ gazing into her eyes was like sinking into a warm bath, and leaning over to kiss her again felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Her lips parted eagerly, and her tongue was playful and willing to slide against his own. She tasted so sweet, and her lips were so plump and soft. Her cheek was soft too, and her neck… Her breasts would probably be even softer still…

Sansa moaned, and the hand he wasn’t holding went to his chest, her fingers splaying over his heart.

Why was he not supposed to do this, again?

“Fuck,” he muttered, coming back to his senses. “ _Fuck._ ”

“You curse a lot,” Sansa whispered, shooting him a shy smile. Her cheeks were pink.

Usually he never cursed. This was just a situation that merited cursing.

Before he had a chance to say anything, Sansa shifted and stood up from the sofa. Stannis opened his mouth to protest - they hadn’t finished their conversation - but closed it with a soft grunt when she straddled him, the skirt of her dress pooling around them.

He had never hardened to his full length and girth so quickly. He almost felt as if he could _hear_ the noise of his blood rushing south.

Sansa kissed him and rubbed herself against him like the teenager she was, and he was helpless to resist her. He felt like a teenager himself: horny and unable to think straight.

The heat of her was burning through the fabric of his trousers and underwear, and the friction created by her movements was driving him mad. His hands roamed from her hair, down her sides, and all the way to her supple ass, where he mindlessly groped her and used his grip on her to force her closer as he thrust up. Her mewls of pleasure shot straight to his groin, making his cock twitch, and his hands squeeze her harder.

_I have to stop. We have to stop. This is wrong, wrong, wrong…_

But he couldn’t stop. He kept kissing her, kept groping her, kept encouraging her to grind against his cock, until his guilt seemed to fade into the background like the annoying buzz of an unwelcome insect.

“It’s so good,” Sansa moaned into his ear, reminding him vividly of the fantasy he’d had of her in his bed. “Please - just - _oh!_ ” Her movements became a little frantic, and she pushed herself against him with enough force to make him grunt with discomfort. He didn’t care, though. By the sound of things, she was on the verge of an orgasm, and he really wanted to see that.

Her voice rose to a high pitched squeal, and then she was breathing hard into his ear, her breasts heaving against his chest.

It was an overwhelming experience, and Stannis realised as she writhed in his lap that he would not be able to stop this. He had boarded a train with no breaks, and he would just have to hope that the tracks wouldn’t lead straight off a cliff.

His heart pounding and his vision blurred with lust, he maneuvered Sansa’s docile body until she was beneath him, and pushed her skirt up so that he’d be able to pull her tights down. She let him do it, but tensed and made a startled little sound when he started to take her panties off, too.

“Let me,” he asked, his voice strangled and unrecognisable.

“Okay,” she whispered, relaxing under his hands. “But could we go to a bed, maybe?”

He nodded, and led her upstairs.

She took her dress off without his prompting when they reached his bedroom, and any vestige of hesitation he might have felt flew out the window. She wasn’t wearing any kind of brassiere. Thus, she was practically naked, and she was _stunning._ Not only was her skin pristine, pale and unblemished, her hair long and wild like a siren’s; she was a perfect example of the golden ratio. Da Vinci himself wouldn’t have been able to do her justice. Her breasts looked as if they’d fit his palms like a dream, her nipples rosy, puckered, and alluring. Her waist dipped in a way that made him want to lick the curve, and her hips flared until perfect buttocks and thighs took over, leading to long, long legs that were made to be parted. Parted for _him._

He tore at his own clothes, getting most of them off, but leaving his glasses and boxer briefs for the time being. Sansa was still in her panties, after all. Green like her dress, but with black lace details and a little bow.

_Gods._

She looked at him almost like he was handsome, and touched the hair on his chest with a look of fascination on her face. It made him feel about ten feet tall, and his cock twitched, needing things to move along.

They got on the bed, his black bedspread soft beneath them. He found out that her breasts felt much better than they looked, and that her nipples tasted even better yet. The sounds she made as he fondled her made him feel like he was the world’s greatest lover. It was a new feeling, and one that he liked more than he could have imagined. 

This time when he went to take her panties off she said nothing, and only helped him do it.

His fingers found her perfectly wet beneath the neat little patch of auburn pubic hair, and when he looked, he could see that she was pink and a little swollen. She smelled strongly of musky female arousal, and Stannis breathed it in slowly, savouring it. Needing to taste it - taste _her_ \- he lowered his mouth and licked.

“Oh!” She sounded surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

He kept going for a little while, mapping her folds with his tongue, stroking her thigh with one hand, and pushing his underwear down with the other. Once she was writhing again, and moaning for him, he climbed on top of her, kicked his boxers all the way off, and rubbed his cock against her, coating himself with her moisture.

It was better than anything he had ever experienced, and he couldn’t keep his embarrassing grunts of pleasure from escaping.

Sansa was mewling again, though the sounds she made changed when he started pushing the head of his cock inside her. She whined and squirmed beneath him, but not in a way that made him feel like she was trying to push him away. In fact, her hands were pulling him closer.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, doing his best to get himself fully sheathed and not having much luck.

Her verbal response was incoherent, but she raked her nails down his back, and tugged on his hips in a way that was very encouraging.

He pulled out and pushed in again, getting a bit further. Encouraged by the small measure of success and the little mewling noise Sansa made, he tried it again. And again. After a maddening eternity of pushing and pulling gently, Stannis gave into the urge to just thrust forward hard. 

That did it.

He groaned and Sansa whimpered, but she also wrapped her legs around him and hugged him to her, which convinced him that she definitely wanted him where he was. He closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping himself under control. She was pulsing around him, wet and tighter than Stannis had known it was possible for a woman to be.

When he felt as if he would be able to do it without becoming a two pump chump, he started to move. Sansa whimpered again, and she was gripping him more loosely, now. He opened his eyes to make sure she was okay, but got distracted when she immediately kissed him. Kissing her and being inside her at the same time felt _wonderful_ , and his heart expanded to twice its usual size.

He wished he could just spend the rest of his life like this: wrapped in her heat, tasting her sweetness.

But eventually the need to breathe became too strong, and their lips parted. His hips had already locked into a steady rhythm of shallow thrusts, but now he felt as if he could go deeper and harder. So he did.

Sansa breathed loudly in his ear, and occasionally a little whimper or a moan would escape her. Her sounds were much more attractive than his obnoxious grunts, but he couldn’t help himself. Every time he thrust inside, sheathing himself to the hilt, a shockwave of pleasure travelled through him, forcing the sounds from him. The friction along the length of his shaft was delicious, and he couldn’t help but clench his buttocks and drive himself in harder still.

His face felt sweaty, and his glasses started to slide down his nose.

Much too soon he felt the hot feeling at the base of his spine build up past the point of no return, and his balls tighten. He lost all control of his hips, and grunted and groaned more loudly than ever as he came with a force that nearly knocked him unconscious.

Peace and satisfaction reigned for three whole minutes. He slipped out of her and she cuddled up to him like an affectionate pet. 

He stroked her hair and fixed his glasses -- it was better when they weren’t askew.

The buzzing sound of his guilt became louder after that, until it was roughly as noisy as a wrecking ball demolishing a concrete wall, and the drilling noise of common sense joined forces with it to create a deafening cacophony of construction site sounds inside his head.

_Student. No condom. Student. Student. Student. No condom._

“Are you on birth control?” he blurted out, panic overtaking him.

“No,” Sansa said, her voice muffled because of the way she was pressed against him.

“What?” He sat up, his movement forcing her to sit up, too. His heart was pounding in his ears. A panicked voice inside his head was yelling about all the lives he had potentially just ruined.

Sansa blinked at him, awkwardly covered herself with his bedspread, and bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I - I never saw the point. Joffrey and I never… you know.”

The common sense drilling noise became a terrifying screech. He looked down at his limp _bloody_ cock. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

“Sansa?” he whispered, feeling suddenly very numb. “Were you a virgin?”

“Sort of,” Sansa mumbled, wringing her hands. “Why? Was I bad? We can try again if I was bad, I’m sure I can learn to do it better.”

_That’s why it was so difficult._

Stannis forced himself not to hyperventilate. It honestly just hadn’t occurred to him that she might be a virgin. He’d never slept with a virgin before, and somehow, after he’d reached a certain age, he had just assumed that it wasn’t something he’d ever need to worry about.

 _Stop thinking about that. She could get pregnant you utter imbecile!_ he shouted at himself, wondering whether he had any brown paper bags in the house for him to breathe into.

“You need to take the morning after pill,” he said, standing up, finding his boxer briefs and covering his bloody cock up. He needed to make himself presentable. He needed to gain control of himself. Very bad things happened when he was not in control of himself.

“Oh,” Sansa said, looking startled. “Yes, I suppose that would be smart.” She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “But I probably won’t get pregnant. My period is due in a couple of days. I’m pretty sure girls can only get pregnant around two weeks before it comes. That’s what Mr. Pycelle said in health class, at least.”

Her words managed to calm him down a little, but he still felt horrible. He started to pace, his body too restless to remain still. There was still the matter of the other crisis.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?” he asked, rubbing his face and wondering if this couldn’t all just be a dream. Now would be a good time to wake up, in that case.

“I didn’t want to ruin the moment,” Sansa said, looking at him with her wide, innocent eyes.

_No. Not innocent. Not anymore. Fuck._

He took a deep breath, his stomach twisting around. He needed to act like an adult and take responsibility for what he had done. The egg was cooked, and there was no way to make it raw again. Underneath the panic he was feeling there were sensible words that needed to be said. He could do this. He had to do this. She deserved no less from him. 

“Listen to me,” he said, sitting down next to Sansa and taking her hands in his. “You should never keep silent about important things for fear of ‘ruining the moment’. But I really should have thought to ask you about these things before I let myself get carried away. Please forgive me.”

Sansa’s eyes became even wider. “There’s - there’s nothing to forgive. We both got carried away, I think,” she said, squeezing his hands. “I - I wanted it. I still want it. I want _you._ ”

He swallowed a few times. His heart ached. _But I don’t deserve you. I’ve proved that quite thoroughly today._

He took another deep breath. “Are you in any pain?”

“It - it burns a little,” Sansa whispered, her cheeks glowing red. “But I liked it,” she added stubbornly. “I want to do it again. I’m sure I’ll be better next time.”

Knowing that he’d hurt her made his heart drop to his knees, and he resisted the impulse in favour of jumping to his feet again, feeling like he shouldn’t be near her. Like he didn’t deserve to be near her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling horribly like his anguish was choking him. _You deserved better for your first time._

“It’s really okay,” she said earnestly, “please stop apologising.”

How could she ask him to do that? In one fell swoop he had permanently impacted her life in rather an enormous way. And he hadn’t even talked to her properly first. He’d been every boorish man he had ever despised, and he’d acted that way with the one person he would have wanted to be as careful with and respectful of as possible.

“Could you just hold me a while?” she asked, sounding small and every bit as young as she was.

He felt torn. On one hand, his guilty conscience was screaming at him to take her home to her parents, admit what he’d done, and face their wrath. On the other, the same guilty conscience was telling him that he needed to consider Sansa’s feelings first, and that if she needed to be held, he should damn well hold her.

 _She’s legally an adult,_ he reminded himself. _Her parents have no say in this._ The only person he really needed to confess his crimes to was Robert: the principal of the school whose rules Stannis had violated. But Stannis doubted that confessing to Robert would be very satisfying. Robert would probably just laugh until he was blue in the face. That or he would strangle Stannis. He definitely wouldn’t fire Stannis like he should. _I’ll have to resign. My career as an educator is over._

It would be much more satisfying to confess to Ned Stark: an honourable man who would be able to make Stannis feel suitably ashamed of himself.

Not that Stannis really needed any help with that at the moment. He had never felt this ashamed of himself. Never.

“Please?” Sansa said, pouting at him from the bed.

He went to her. She deserved to be held after her first time. The least he could do was do this part right.


	6. Don't Stand So Close To Me

Sansa looked at Stannis’ house, tilting her head to the side. She was fairly sure he was at home. His car was in the garage, at least. She’d peeked through the window and checked.

Today was the day after Boxing Day, and her parents hadn’t minded when she had told them she wanted to spend the day with Jeyne. It hadn’t been a lie. Not really. Sansa might still walk over to Jeyne’s house. She was just going to see if Stannis was home, first.

 _Just knock,_ she told herself, taking a hesitant step towards the front door.

After everything that had happened, Stannis had become really anxious. She understood, of course, but it was very frustrating. She had assumed that he had made peace with the fact that they were doing something a little wrong before he had let her into his bedroom. She had thought that their feelings made the risk worth it. But it seemed as if he’d just temporarily ignored his better judgment.

Maybe that was to be expected. It had all happened so fast, and Sansa hadn’t exactly been thinking any complicated thoughts at the time. She blushed at the memory of how Stannis had looked. Her fantasies had _not_ done him justice. Maybe it was unkind of her to expect Stannis to have thought it through any better than she had?

Still, there was a part of her that was squirming and writhing and insisting that she hadn’t been good enough in bed to warrant anything more, and he was just using the fact that she had been a virgin as an excuse to end things.

It was a terrifying notion, because if it was true, Stannis didn’t return her feelings.

She was also worried about how he had reacted to finding out that she had been a virgin. She had been led to believe that men weren’t supposed to care all that much about that stuff. She cared. Of course she cared, but she had been happy to lose her virginity to someone like Stannis rather than someone like Joffrey. Stannis actually seemed to _care about her._ And she cared about him. She hadn’t gone into Stannis’ house thinking that she would lose her virginity, but once everything started happening it had felt _right._ Her body had just known what to do -- or at least it had definitely known what it _wanted._ Stannis had just made her feel so… 

She didn’t have the words. Alive? Hot? Like she was on the verge of exploding?

 _Good._ It had felt good.

It had been easy to come just from rubbing up against him on the sofa, and then he’d actually taken her to _bed_ and done that thing with his _tongue._ She wished he had done that for longer.

Sure, it had hurt a bit when he’d pushed into her, but it had also been sort of amazing, and seeing and hearing the effect that she was having on Stannis had been even better. Maybe not quite as good as an orgasm, but Sansa wasn’t _ignorant._ She knew things. She knew it wasn’t really very common for girls to come during their first time.

Anyway, seeing Stannis unravel had been completely and utterly sexy. Feeling how much he wanted her… seeing his passion… 

_He does return my feelings. He has to. No one can just fake that kind of passion. It’s impossible._

She straightened her back and nodded to herself, pleased with the arguments she had been working on inside her head for the past few days. She’d barely paid attention to the Christmas celebrations, she had been so busy reasoning it all out.

Well, she hadn’t really reasoned anything out that first night. There had been too many emotions to deal with, and she had kept bursting into tears for reasons she didn’t entirely understand. She should have been using the time to think of ways to convince Stannis that what they had could really work if they just _tried._ She only had a few months left of being his student, and after she graduated no one would be able to say anything if they chose to have a relationship.

Sansa knocked. And waited.

After what seemed like a very very long time, she heard Stannis’ footsteps coming closer.

The door swung open.

“Can I come in?” she asked before he had a chance to say anything.

He glanced furtively up and down the street, and stood aside after he seemed satisfied that no one was looking. It felt a little exciting to see him act like that, and Sansa imagined for a moment that they were a couple in a movie, having a secret rendezvous. She pushed the thought away almost as soon as it entered her mind, however. _Stop being childish._

“Happy Christmas,” she blurted, catching him by surprise by kissing his cheek. “I missed you.”

Stannis rubbed his face. He was looking at her with that expression he’d worn after they’d stopped cuddling and he’d told her she had to go home. Tired and worried and unhappy.

“You can’t just visit unannounced,” he said, frowning at her.

Sansa had suspected that he might be reluctant to spend time with her if she didn’t have a good reason to come see him, so she smiled and prepared to tell him the good news. She was certain it would ease his mind. He’d been so worried she’d get pregnant. She had been nervous about it too, even though she had taken the morning after pill, following the instructions to the letter. After all, she was _not_ ready to be a mother.

“I know, but I wanted to tell you that I got my period. I woke up to it on Christmas morning.” She looked down at her feet, a little embarrassed to talk about such things with him. It hadn’t exactly been the nicest Christmas present ever, but the relief had been welcome, and she wanted to share that relief with Stannis. She was still bleeding a little today, but she’d probably be done the day after next. “I thought you’d want to know I’m not pregnant. And I don’t have your phone number, so I couldn’t exactly just text you.”

“I - yes, thank you. That’s… that’s good news.” Stannis didn’t seem to know where to look or how to behave himself. He was standing stiffly, his hands glued to his sides, and he was looking at the wall to the left of her instead of at her face.

“Anyway, I thought we could hang out a bit,” she said, brightening her voice hopefully, and trying to get him to look her in the eyes. _You care about me. I know you do._

“Hang out?” His voice was flat.

“Yeah, watch a movie or something.” _Please. I just want to spend time with you._

There was a long silence, interrupted only by Stannis taking a few deep breaths.

“Sansa, I can’t do this. We can’t do this.”

Sansa looked at the floor, feeling as if her heart had suddenly turned to spun glass. She took a deep breath. “I thought we were already doing it.”

“Not anymore. It was a mistake.”

The spun glass fractured. “A mistake?” she whispered at the floor, unable to face him now that her eyes were suddenly filling with tears.

“Yes. I mean... no.” Stannis blew out a loud frustrated gust of air.

She looked up at him, wiping at her eyes. “Which is it?” she asked, full of hurt and anger. “Was it a mistake to take me to bed or not?”

Stannis looked at her, but he seemed frozen. Uncertain.

“Do you regret it?” she asked, hugging herself and forcing herself not to keep crying. _I’m not a crybaby. I’m a grown-up._

“Of course I do,” he said, his voice harsh. “I should never have so much as kissed you. Don’t you understand how wrong this is?”

The writhing squirming feeling that was convinced she wasn’t good enough returned with a vengeance. “It feels right to me.” Or at least it had. At the moment everything felt horrible.

“I can’t afford to be selfish and impulsive,” Stannis said, still speaking in that awful harsh tone of voice. “I have a duty to the school.”

“Wasn’t it good for you?” she asked, the question bursting out without her permission. “Wasn’t I good enough?” _Don’t you care?_ She hugged herself more tightly, and squeezed her eyes shut to keep the stupid tears from escaping.

He came closer after that, and wrapped his arms around her. It wasn’t like a hug from anyone in her family. It was a too stiff and uncertain. But she melted against him anyway, and soon he relaxed a little, and held her properly -- just like he’d held her in bed, after.

“You did nothing wrong,” Stannis said, his voice awkward.

She looked up at him and searched his face. “But I wasn’t good enough for another go, is that it?” She needed to make sure that wasn’t it. She needed to make the horrible writhing sensation in the pit of her stomach stop.

“ _No._ ” He took a step back, breaking the embrace. “That’s not what this is about. If you were a little older, if you weren’t my student, I’d never let you out of my bed.” 

It was almost as if sparks were flying from his eyes, and Sansa felt a dizzying thrill that made her knees weak.

 _He cares. He wants me._ Relief swept through her, weakening her knees further. Stannis wouldn’t say that unless he meant it. She was sure of it. The writhing sensation turned into a much more pleasant fluttery feeling.

“I’m old enough, and I won’t be your student for much longer,” she said, gathering the arguments she had prepared like a shield around her. “We could be careful for a few months. After that -”

“A few months is a long time to be as careful as we’d need to be,” Stannis said, cutting her off. “We can’t risk it.”

Sansa wanted to stomp her foot, but she doubted that would help Stannis see her as a mature adult. She forced herself to take a deep breath and think things through. _He wants me in his bed,_ she reminded herself, feeling her uncertainty and fear fade away. _He likes me. He cares._

Obviously, he just needed a bit of time to come to his senses.

“I understand,” she said, a plan already forming in her mind.

“You do?” Stannis looked surprised. Surprised and a little suspicious.

“Of course I do,” she said, making her expression as innocent as she could. “We just… can’t be together right now.”

He sagged with relief. “I’m pleased you’re being so mature about this,” he said, giving her a look that made her want to kiss him. “I really should resign as things are, but I think… as long as nothing else happens… one incident, during the holidays -”

“I think you’re right,” she said, not waiting for him to finish. “Just one incident shouldn’t mean you have to quit. You’ve had a perfect record for so many years, and you’re only human.”

Stannis was looking at her and nodding, something desperate in his eyes. “Precisely,” he said, nodding some more.

They looked at each other, and Sansa did not fail to notice the way his eyes went to her lips.

“I’ll see you at school, then,” she whispered,

“Yes.” His voice was strained.

She left.

***

“You gave Sansa Stark 76%? And you offered to drive her home?” Baelish asked the minute Stannis walked into the otherwise empty staff lounge. “Is it the hair?” He smirked.

Stannis felt himself redden, but forced himself to stay calm. “She earned that grade, and I was hardly going to let _you_ drive her.”

“I’m sure she earned it,” Baelish drawled, the smirk turning into a leer. “I always got the feeling that she’d be up for some _special_ extra credit, if you know what I mean.”

“If you’re implying that you’d trade sexual favours for higher grades, I am going to be forced to suspend you.” Not that Stannis hadn’t been trying to convince Robert to let him fire Baelish ever since he first heard the _rumours._

“Oh, no.” Baelish showed his palms in surrender. “You misunderstood me, I would _never_ do something like that.”

Stannis snorted. _If I could prove half the things that I suspect about you…_

“I’m a patient man, after all,” Baelish said softly, his eyes glittering. “Why do something… questionable if it becomes perfectly acceptable if one just… waits?”

They stared at each other, and Stannis drew on every ounce of control he had over himself to keep Baelish from seeing the guilt he was still feeling over what he had done with Sansa. Thankfully, it seemed to work. Baelish was the first to look away.

Stannis knew when to press an advantage, so he went right up to the slighter man and put his lips right next to his ear. “Stay away from her, or you’ll never work at a school again.” _And where will you groom the girls that somehow end up on your payroll, then?_

Baelish backed away. His expression had gone cold, and he examined Stannis as if he was seeing him for the first time. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were talking rather like a possessive lover.”

Stannis bared his teeth, determined not to show a hint of weakness. “Don’t be absurd.”

Baelish said nothing, but raised a brow. With one last cold look, he turned and left the teacher’s lounge, leaving a faint aroma of peppermint in the air.

When Baelish was gone, Stannis let his shoulders slump and his face crumple.

_Fuck._

***

Stannis had never in his entire career struggled with the problem he was struggling with now. Over the past few weeks there had been a few close calls, he supposed, but there had never been anything like this.

Sansa had been pushing him ever since the winter holidays. He was almost sure of it. At the beginning it had been little things. Smiles. Her hair loose and flowing, a lock twirled around a finger. Little hearts on her homework assignments. Gentle reminders of what existed between them. Understandable little overtures.

For the past two weeks she had been going further and further. Loosening her tie more and more, unbuttoning more buttons, ‘forgetting’ to wear tights… and today she was practically _taunting_ him.

He shot Sansa an angry glare, hoping that she would take the hint and _stop._ But the evil girl only fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Didn’t she understand what was at stake? Baelish was on the prowl, raising an eyebrow whenever he saw Stannis standing anywhere near her, and her inappropriate attire was not working to make the filthy little man any less suspicious.

And it really was impossible to concentrate when she looked at him like this.

Subtly, Stannis took a deep breath and bit the inside of his cheek.

Maybe if he just didn’t look at her, the problem in his trousers would deflate?

… But that would mean he’d have to stop glancing at her every time he thought he could get away with it. And his eyes did not really seem to want to stop looking.

His class was supposed to be solving the problems on page 355 of their textbooks, but Sansa wasn’t working. While her classmates were bent over their notebooks, furiously punching the buttons of their calculators, she was letting the pink eraser on the tip of her yellow pencil trail from her lips, down over her neck, and even lower… Her tie was just hanging loose around her neck, not knotted at all, and her shirt was unbuttoned to an indecent extent. He could see the hint of a lacy white bra that was setting his imagination on fire. She was also sitting with her legs somehow sticking out from under her desk to the side, and her skirt had ridden up to show quite a bit of _bare_ thigh. He could write her up for not wearing her uniform properly, but he really didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that he was looking at her at all. Looking at her, and experiencing an erection that was becoming rather intensely painful now that it had been lingering for nearly an hour.

 _Why is she torturing me?_ She had said that she understood. She had seemed to care about his job… the school… their reputations… had that all been a lie? 

He took another subtle deep breath, and tried to reason with himself.

_She is not forcing you to lust after her. Just like she did not force you to abandon all of your scruples and take her to bed. You chose to act on your desires, and now it is your responsibility to get yourself under control again._

Stannis managed to focus on trying to get a hold of himself for an entire minute before he gave up and looked at Sansa again.

The pink eraser was poking her plump lower lip, creating a small dip in the soft flesh. She caught him looking and gave him a small smile. Then, as if she genuinely wanted him to come in his pants like a schmuck, she put the pencil down and replaced it with a finger. He stopped breathing when the finger actually slipped into her mouth and she closed her eyes.

Would her face look like that if he ever pushed his cock between those soft lips?

The bell suddenly rang, and Stannis felt blood rush to his face.

“Read chapter fifteen before your next class,” he said to his students without standing up. They all nodded as they packed their things. “And solve problems 247 through 263.”

The students groaned, but continued to pack. The quickest packers were already walking out the door.

Sansa was the last to leave. She walked to the door slowly, with a pronounced swing in her hips. She gave him a sultry look and dropped the pencil she was still holding for some reason.

“Oops,” she said, bending over ostentatiously.

Her creamy thighs looked good enough to eat, and his old fantasy of bending her over his desk rushed to the forefront of his mind, making his cock twitch painfully. He’d just have to push her skirt up…

_Are her panties white and lacy like her bra?_

He swallowed and gripped the edge of his desk, sending her a death glare. But he couldn’t say anything. If he opened his mouth he wasn’t sure which words might come pouring out. He might tell her off, but he was equally likely to lose his mind and tell her to come and sit on his lap.

He couldn’t trust himself.

He did need to talk to her, however. But it would have to be later. When he wasn’t suffering his current condition.

Sansa finally left, blowing him a cheeky kiss on her way out. 

He glared down at his groin. His balls ached.


	7. A Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter today. Sorry about that, and sorry I'm posting it a bit late. This weekend is very hectic. (For good reasons!)

Sansa could hardly suppress her glee. Her plan had _finally_ worked. It had worked even better than she had dared to hope. Instead of just making sure that he didn’t forget about her - that he wouldn’t be able to put her out of his mind and convince himself that they shouldn’t be together - Stannis had actually asked her to come to his office at the end of the day. The note she had been given looked very official, and the freshman that had handed it to her had given her a look of deep sympathy, but Sansa knew she wasn’t in trouble. 

Stannis was going to talk to her at last.

She was almost a little disappointed. Teasing him in class had been surprisingly fun. It had felt incredibly liberating to just let go of all primness and propriety, and really let her sexy side show. Maybe that was why Margaery - Joffrey’s new girlfriend - always dressed like this?

Still, she would happily let go of this new form of fun if she could just convince Stannis that they could start having lunches together like before. She missed spending time with him.

“Close the door and sit down, Miss Stark.”

Sansa’s heart pounded as she did what she was told. She was wearing her uniform properly now, as Robert’s office was right next to Stannis’, and the school secretary had her desk just outside.

“You have to stop misbehaving in my classes,” Stannis said abruptly after a few tense moments of silence. He had steepled his fingers on his desk, his body was taut and rigid, and his expression was severe.

“Misbehaving, sir?”

“Your uniform, Miss Stark. You are to wear it properly. You mustn’t attract attention to yourself. To _us._ ”

“Will you put me in detention if I forget?” Sansa asked, letting her newly discovered sexy side do the talking, and trying to make her voice a bit sultry.

Stannis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sansa, we discussed this.”

“My uniform?” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

Stannis rose from his desk and came round to tower over her. It might have felt intimidating if she didn’t know that he would never hurt her.

“Do you want me to be forced to resign? Is that it?” He looked angry and upset and a little like he was at the end of his rope.

She decided to push him just a little further. “Why would you need to resign because of my uniform?”

His hands jerked, almost as if he had wanted to place them on her shoulders, but he kept them glued to his sides. “You know how much I want you,” he whispered in a broken voice. “You have to stop torturing me. Please.”

She glared at him. “No. _You_ have to stop torturing us _both_ ,” she said. She was tired of this game. It had been _weeks_ since Christmas. It was unfair that he wouldn’t even talk to her anymore. Had he forgotten how alone she was without him? “We can spend time together. We can be careful. I _miss_ you.”

Stannis took his glasses off and rubbed his face. “You don’t understand. Baelish suspects something. Haven’t you noticed him watching us?”

The wind immediately left Sansa’s sails. _Baelish suspects something?_ “No. I - I haven’t noticed. And he hasn’t said anything to me.”

“Well, he’s said quite enough to me.” Stannis scowled down at her.

Sansa looked down at her lap to keep herself from staring at Stannis. It was a bit distracting to have him so near and not be allowed to touch him.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, biting her lip. “I’ll be more careful.”

Stannis replaced his glasses. “Thank you.” He sounded solemn and sincere.

“But you know he won’t be able to prove anything,” she said, a sudden stroke of inspiration filling her with hope and a frazzled sort of energy. “He’d have to catch us _doing_ something, wouldn’t he? And even if he did catch us, I’d just have to say he was lying. I’d just have to say you’d never laid a finger on me.”

“Lying isn’t as easy as you seem to think, Miss Stark,” Stannis said, frowning at her. “And it’s morally reprehensible.”

“Please call me Sansa,” she whispered. Every time he called her ‘Miss Stark’ it felt like she was losing him. Like he was pulling back and leaving her behind.

“Sansa…” he breathed, pain and longing in his voice as clear as day.

“I miss you so much.” She met his eyes, her own longing filling her to the brim. She knew the sensible thing to do was to wait. It was only a few months. They could do it. Stannis wouldn’t forget about her. He wouldn’t move on.

Or would he?

Something reckless and crazy rose up within her. Her hand moved without her permission. Since he was standing, and she was sitting, it wasn’t even that hard to reach.

“Sansa!” he gasped, his voice shocked. He was looking frantically at the closed door. Closed, but not locked.

Sansa stroked him through his trousers, feeling his cock come alive beneath her hand. That was, until Stannis took a hasty step back and then put his desk between them.

“That was not ‘careful’,” Stannis said, glaring at her. “If we are to spend time together - _if_ \- then we must never so much as look at each other for too long while we’re at school.”

Sansa put on her best attentive expression and nodded seriously. “Of course, sir.”

“You have to go now,” Stannis said, sitting down in his desk chair and taking a deep breath.

“Maybe I could drop by your house tonight so that we can discuss this properly?” she suggested, getting up from her seat.

He swallowed and stared at her for a long moment. His eyes were a study in conflict: full of turmoil, doubt, and raw desire, but eventually he looked away and gave a curt nod. “Eight o’clock sharp.”

“Great,” she said, unable to keep a wide smile at bay. “I’ll see you then.”

She picked up her bag and whirled around to leave, not wishing to linger in case Stannis decided to change his mind, but the sudden movement caused the pencil she had used to tease Stannis to fall from a side pocket of her bag to the floor. She had stuffed it in there in a hurry after she had made a production of bending over for Stannis earlier that day, and she must have forgotten to zip the pocket up properly.

It rolled under Stannis’ desk.

“Leave it,” Stannis said, his voice choked.

“I happen to like that pencil,” Sansa said, getting to her knees and reaching under the desk. She didn’t try to look sexy as she did it. She had already got what she wanted: permission to visit Stannis’ house. All she was trying to do was get her pencil back.

Her fingers had just closed around the pencil when Sansa heard a noise that made her freeze.

The door had opened. 

_What if it’s Mr. Baelish?_ she thought, terror filling her.

“Oho,” a familiar voice said, sounding amused. It was Robert. _The principal._ For a second she was relieved, but then she realised it was probably worse for Robert to catch them than it was for Mr. Baelish. Her heart started racing uncomfortably in her chest.

Sansa hurriedly crawled out from under the desk, clutching her pencil. “Got it!” she exclaimed unnecessarily loudly, feeling herself blush as she prayed that Robert wouldn’t jump to any conclusions.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Robert said, chuckling to himself. “Sansa?” he then said, realising who she was. He stopped chuckling.

“Hello, sir.” 

“Miss Stark was just leaving,” Stannis said, sounding cool and composed.

“Yes, I just - I dropped my pencil,” she said, her face still hot with embarrassment, her heart still pounding.

Robert rolled his eyes. “Well, of course you did,” he said, giving her a fatherly pat on the shoulder. “But you really shouldn’t make a habit of crawling under desks like that. It’s not ladylike.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right, Stannis seems to have made it through the experience without suffering a heart attack. Why don’t you run along, now?”

Sansa could have danced. Robert obviously didn’t suspect a thing. “Yes, sir. Have a good afternoon.”

“You, too. Say hello to your father from me.”

“I will.”

She left without looking back, even though she was very curious about what sort of expression was on Stannis’ face.

***

Stannis kept his face carefully blank, even though his heart was racing. Robert’s timing was impeccable, as always.

“I have to say, for a second there I thought Baelish might be onto something and that you’d actually discovered that you’re a red blooded man!” Robert said, chuckling as he took a seat in the visitor’s chair. “I should have known better. Sansa would never go around giving blowjobs to her teachers. Ned raised her better.”

Stannis kept his face blank, but his mind was racing, wondering what sort of rumours Baelish had been spreading.

“I would have expected you to know that _I_ would never go around accepting sexual favours from students,” Stannis said through clenched teeth, glaring at Robert. His stomach was writhing due to guilt, but he could not afford to confess his sins. Not now. Not if Baelish was trying to start rumours. “That sort of thing is against school policy.”

“Not when they’re eighteen,” Robert said, cheerful as anything.

Stannis suppressed a groan. “Yes, Robert. Also when they’re eighteen.”

Robert furrowed his brow and frowned for a moment. “Really?”

Stannis pressed his lips together tightly and nodded.

“Oh.”

There was a moment of silence, and Stannis did his best not to think about school policy and Sansa Stark.

“Out of curiosity,” Stannis said, trying to sound nonchalant, “what did Baelish say to make you think I’d have a student under my desk for… unnatural reasons?”

Robert shrugged. “He just said you looked like you got laid recently. Personally, I don’t see it. The man must be inhaling the fumes from the whiteboard markers too much. You look as sour as always.”

“Mm,” Stannis hummed, not quite sure how to react.

“Well, anyway, I wanted to ask you what you think of increasing the enrollment fee next year,” Robert said, changing the subject.

Stannis wasn’t entirely sure the new topic was better than the last. It was a relief not to talk about anything to do with Sansa or Baelish, but Robert’s question did not sound as if it had originated from a source Stannis approved of. He sighed, feeling a headache come on.

“Were you talking to Tywin Lannister again?”

Robert shifted in his chair.

Stannis sighed again. This was going to be a very, _very_ long conversation.


	8. Little Black Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again about the late update! I posted it just before midnight on my birthday (I'm adding this note a bit later, it's half past midnight now) and I've been having a very busy weekend of celebrating. Not only was it my birthday on the 14th, but on the 12th my boyfriend proposed to me. So it's been a crazy few days. But enough about me - I hope you enjoy Stannis' and Sansa's exploits. ;)

The knock came at precisely eight o’clock. Stannis hurried to open the door, not wishing for Sansa to linger for too long on his doorstep. Anyone might see her while she was out in the open.

“Hi,” she said, her eyes alight with excitement. A little thrill passed through him at the sight. He hadn’t seen her look this happy in a long time, and he had missed it. Missed _her._

He gestured for her to come in and closed the door behind her, not quite able to find his words. Finding them did not get any easier when he saw Sansa shrug her coat off and reveal the dress she was wearing. It was small and black and clingy, and in combination with her high heels, her sophisticated hairstyle and elegant touches of makeup, she looked a lot older than her years.

“I decided to dress up a little,” she said, shooting him a shy smile. “Do you like it?”

He nodded mutely, his vocabulary still somewhere out of reach.

“Should we go inside?”

He led the way to the living room, and felt a wave of arousal hit him when he saw her sit down on the sofa where they had started to explore each other the first time she had visited him.

“I like seeing you wear something a little more casual,” Sansa said, gazing at him with artless admiration in her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your shirtsleeves rolled up like that.”

He crossed his arms and then changed his mind and dropped them to his sides, feeling awkward and oddly nervous.

“It’s sexy,” Sansa added, patting the seat next to her pointedly.

He sat down and forced himself to remember how to speak. “Today at school, with Robert, it was much too close a call,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You shouldn’t come to my office again.” _Baelish mustn’t see. He mustn’t suspect._

“Okay,” Sansa agreed. Her hand had gone to his knee, and she was stroking him gently.

“And you - you’ll wear your uniform properly at all times,” Stannis said, stuttering a little when she moved her hand and squeezed his upper thigh.

“Of course,” she agreed again, this time in a whisper. Her hand was inching towards his groin.

“And we mustn’t see each other too often,” he choked out, exhaling loudly when her hand cupped him through his trousers. _Gods._

“Just often enough,” she breathed, kissing him almost before the last syllable left her lips.

He kissed her back without thinking, moaning involuntarily at the relief of it -- the pleasure. He had missed her so much for the past few weeks that it physically hurt to think about it, and his body was responding to her touch like a starved man would to a five course meal.

Her hands were unbuttoning his shirt, expertly working each button loose like she did this every day. His own hands were useless. They just groped at her figure, hungrily, needily, _desperately._

“I’ve been thinking about trying this ever since your brother walked in on us today,” Sansa whispered, kissing his earlobe. She kept kissing him, leaving a trail of heat and tingly skin behind her, moving down his neck, down his newly exposed chest, and all the way to his groin.

 _Is she...? Oh, gods. She is._ Stannis started to breathe too fast, and everything inside his head went oddly white and fuzzy.

She got on her knees between his thighs, unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly with determined, albeit slightly clumsy movements.

Somewhere beyond the white noise a part of him was telling him that he shouldn’t accept this from her, but he couldn’t ask her to stop. _Couldn’t._

Soon his bare cock was in her hand, and she was smearing precome over the head, looking fascinated. His hips jerked when she brought her thumb to her mouth afterwards, tasting him, and he started to pant.

“Please,” he rasped, though he had no memory of deciding to say anything.

She smiled up at him, her eyes alive with excitement and curiosity, and then - _fuck_ \- she was licking him.

She was licking him, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The vision she presented was too riveting. Everything about what she was wearing and how she looked was the very epitome of elegance and class, and yet she was licking his cock. Rather messily and inexpertly, and with great relish.

It didn’t seem real.

And yet it was real. He could feel how real it was, and he was enjoying it more than he should. Small sounds of pleasure escaped him at the sparks of pleasure he felt whenever she licked the underside of his cock, but eventually he couldn’t take any more teasing. He needed more. So he placed a hand - gently - on the back of her head, attempting to keep from ruining her pretty hairstyle, and encouraged her to take him into her mouth.

She looked up at him as she tested the waters, a question clear in her eyes whenever she tried something different. He mumbled encouraging sounds as she went from simply keeping him inside her hot mouth, to licking him experimentally while still keeping him snug between her lips, to bobbing her head slowly, and finally -

_Yes._

He tightened his grip on the back of her head, nodded frantically, and drew in a loud breath when she started to suck, and the fire that was already ablaze at the base of his spine burned hotter.

At first she just held him steady using the grip on the base of his shaft, but after a while she started to move her hand, and once she seemed to be confident with that, she synchronised everything perfectly. He only had to complain once when her teeth scraped against him a little uncomfortably, but otherwise… all perfect. All blissful.

It got harder and harder to keep himself in check, and somehow the reasons why he should stay a gentleman seemed more difficult to grasp. His blood was up and singing for him to thrust and push her head down and get _deeper,_ but he managed to control himself.

But when he tried to catch her eye, wanting so much to communicate how much pleasure she was giving him, he didn’t realise until she was looking right at him that it was a mistake.

“ _Fuck -_ ”

Stannis groaned, and tried to keep his hips from jerking up too uncontrollably, but he was coming, and everything was a blur of glorious pleasure and relief and _pleasure._

Blearily, he watched her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and get up. She sat down next to him, and he accepted her into his arms without hesitation, holding her close.

“That tasted weird,” she mumbled after a while, sounding a little embarrassed.

“Would you like a glass of water?” He wasn’t sure his legs would carry him quite yet, but for her he’d try.

“In a bit; I like this.” She snuggled closer.

They were quiet and still for a while, and Stannis allowed himself to stroke her hair, her arms, and the thigh he could reach, revelling in her softness, her warmth, her scent…

“Was it good?” she asked a little shyly, when the afterglow had worn off a little, and he had started to cover himself back up.

“Good?” He blinked at her in disbelief. “Sansa… it was - it was very good.” He did the crossword every day, but he was not an English teacher for a reason. His vocabulary tended to fail him when he needed it the most. He sought refuge where he always sought it. With numbers. “It was a 100% good,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Possibly even better than that.”

“Nothing can be more than a 100% good,” Sansa said with a delighted laugh. Her face was alive with happiness. “I may not be very good at math, but I learnt that a long time ago.”

“You’re wonderful at math,” he said, meeting her eyes and not letting her look away. _You’re wonderful. Full stop._

The world stopped turned on its axis for a moment, and there was just them.

And then she kept laughing, even throwing her head back with glee. “You’re being silly,” she said, breathless and breathtaking. “I’m only okay at math, and you know it.”

“You’re wonderful if I say you’re wonderful,” he said, his lips twitching. Her laugh was infectious. “And if you call me silly again, I will be very displeased.” He rose to his feet.

“Where are you going?” She arranged her face into a playful pout.

“To get you a glass of water. And then I thought we might go upstairs.” 

Stannis believed he needed to balance his side of the equation.

***

To Sansa, having Stannis do that thing with his tongue again felt a lot like she had won him over. After this, she was sure he would let her visit regularly. And though they were being pretty physical at the moment, she had the feeling he wouldn’t mind just talking sometimes -- like they used to. She wasn’t focusing on that very much right now, though. It was hard to focus on anything at all when he was making her feel so good.

“Please - don’t stop -”

Her voice desperate and needy and not at all victorious, but she didn’t care. His head was buried between her thighs, and he was licking so steadily, nudging against the places that would eventually set fireworks off inside her, and making her want to whimper.

It had been harder than she had expected to go down on him. She had only really given Joffrey handjobs, and as it turned out, blowjobs were vastly more complex. Stannis was also quite a big bigger than Joffrey, which made things even trickier. Thankfully Stannis had sort of helped her along, though he could have made himself clearer if he’d just _told_ her what to do instead of steering her head like he had. Still, it had been sexy. And if he had been half as incoherent as she was right now, she supposed it was understandable that he hadn’t given her explicit instructions.

Was it as difficult for him to go down on her? The stuff he was doing didn’t _look_ very hard…

Her train of thought got derailed almost immediately, just like all of the other trains of thought that had come before it. Her attention span was practically in shambles because if the way he would sometimes _suck._

“Yes-yes-yes-” she whined, squeezing his head with her thighs without meaning to. She just needed him to stay where he was so badly, and it just felt so good, and _oh_ -

Strong hands pried her thighs apart and held her secure, and somehow that made her feel even hotter.

She moaned as he started to push his tongue inside her, imitating sex in a very wet and slippery way. And then he was back to those slow licks between her folds, all the way to the top where it felt best.

She writhed and squirmed and begged for more, completely lost to the world, completely immersed in sensation, and he gave her more. More and more, hotter and hotter, steady and wet and soft and wonderful, until finally it happened:

She saw stars.

Dimly, she was aware of herself crying his name and tugging on the back of his head a lot less politely than he had tugged on her head before. Her thighs quivered, and her face felt hotter than it had ever felt before.

He was on top of her before she had really returned to her senses, kissing her even though he still tasted sharp and strange, and rubbing himself against her. He was naked. She remembered that he had taken her dress off before he let her get on the bed, she remembered the way he had spent ages just teasing her nipples - he really seemed to like her breasts - but she couldn’t remember when his clothes had come off. It had all happened quite fast, and she had been concentrating on other things.

“Condom,” she said, her voice coming out a little weak and breathless. “I brought some - in my purse.”

Never let it be said that Sansa Stark did not learn from her mistakes.

Thankfully she had thought to bring her purse upstairs.

Stannis moved more quickly than she would have been able to at the moment, and only fumbled with the wrapper for a little while. Sansa watched with keen interest as he rolled the latex over his cock, and felt a shiver of anticipation. She’d stolen a peek at some porn once or twice, though she had never been able to watch for very long before she started feeling like she was doing something she oughtn’t, but this was _much_ more sexy. Stannis was very tall, and though he was much too thin, his muscles were toned and always… rippling... when he moved. It was fascinating.

 _He likes to swim,_ she reminded herself, as he climbed on top of her again, thinking back to one of their conversations from before. When they’d just been… friends, she supposed.

“It might still hurt even though it’s not your first time,” Stannis said, looking at her with a serious, worried expression on his face that was completely at odds with his flushed skin and his jutting erection. “If I’ve prepared you properly it really shouldn’t, but I did some reading and apparently -”

“I need you,” she said, cutting him off and shifting her hips as encouragingly as she could.

A surprised grunt of pleasure escaped him, and the head of his cock slipped inside of her. She was so slippery after everything he’d done that it didn’t hurt at all. The latex felt odd, though. She told him.

“Let me know if it starts to hurt,” he said, his voice strained. He pushed in a little further.

“It’s good,” she said, “so good…” In truth, the stretch of him filling her did burn a tiny little bit, but mostly it really was good. She didn’t want him to stop.

He was panting, and when she looked at him she could see that his eyes were tightly closed in concentration. There was a shift in his expression when he thrust forward and buried himself all the way inside, though. His eyebrows knitted together and he opened his mouth in a strange sort of way, his bottom lip curling inward. It looked he’d just been punched. Or at least like someone looked when they got punched in the movies.

An involuntary noise had escaped her when he’d gone all the way in, and the burning sensation had faded into the background. The latex felt both more slippery and less slippery than his bare skin had felt last time, and she couldn’t really explain it to herself. It didn’t make any sense. How could smooth, lubricated latex feel abrasive?

He started to move, and Sansa got distracted from her thoughts. It felt sort of good but also weird and a little uncomfortable, but when she focused on his grunts of pleasure she felt herself get more turned on, and then it felt better. There was something deeply satisfying about the way he filled her, and she liked the way it felt when he rubbed up against her each time he thrust inside her all the way.

She experimented with moving her thighs and shifting her hips, and he responded by changing his angle accordingly. They didn’t say anything; their bodies just seemed to know what to do.

Suddenly they found an angle that was better than all the others. It felt like he was brushing up against something inside of her that was just… _wow._

“There-there-there,” she keened, grabbing Stannis’s back and digging her nails into his skin. “More, just there, just there, oh!”

It was all a frenzy after that. He went faster and faster, grunting more loudly, his body slapping against hers and making wet smacking noises that Sansa was sure the whole neighbourhood would probably be able to hear, and she was really getting close, she could just feel it…

The loudest grunt of all signalled the beginning of the end, and Stannis’ rhythm stuttered and became erratic and much less satisfying than the sure, powerful thrusts from before. She tried to close her eyes and focus, but her peak was fading away unreached.

She pushed her disappointment away without letting it linger. _He made me come before we started. We’ll just have to work on this part._

She could not remember any kind of homework that she had looked forward to more.

Later, when Stannis started to move around and make himself likely to leave bed, Sansa tightened her grip on him.

“Can we cuddle a bit longer?

Stannis stopped trying to get up. “Of course.” He sounded a little sleepy, and his voice was pleasantly hoarse.

She bit her lip. “And can we watch something together? After a little while?”

There was a pause, and for a frightening moment Sansa thought Stannis would say no.

“Yes,” he said, his voice still raspy and low.

Orgasms were wonderful, but the feeling of warmth that filled her due to that simple word was _much_ better.


	9. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited this a million times, but I'm just going to stop now, post it, and remind you guys that this is just a short silly story. Please don't kill me if it doesn't live up to your expectations!

Sansa was as good as her word. She wore her uniform flawlessly, every button buttoned, legs covered in the appropriate hosiery, her tie perfectly knotted, her shoes polished to a mirror shine. She wore her hair braided to the side, not loose and wild and tempting, and her touches of makeup were barely noticeable.

The rumours Baelish had attempted to start failed to take off. The teachers seemed just as convinced as Robert that the man must be hallucinating. Stannis even saw Varys take Baelish aside and express deep concern that Baelish might need a holiday. Amusing as it was, Stannis pretended not to notice.

Stannis was careful to keep his distance from Sansa while they were at school. He could sense that even though the other teachers were disinclined to believe Baelish, they were watching him with more interest than before.

It was difficult.

He didn’t know why it was as difficult as it was. Sansa had done everything he had asked. But the more time he spent with her in the safety of his home, the more clear it became to him that he had been mad to try to stay away from her. The days when he knew they would be meeting after school were better in every way than the days when they did not spend time together. Even just half an hour with her, eating together, talking about the latest incident of a teacher handing Baelish a brochure about relaxing cruises, and kissing on the sofa, was enough to make him feel light and _happy._

Having to keep it all a secret was giving him an ulcer.

It really didn’t help that as he got to know her more and more, his attraction to her grew steadily more intense and overwhelming. Even though she wore her uniform properly and didn’t go out of her way to tease him anymore, he was still having trouble controlling himself when he taught her.

It was all the little things that tormented him. The secret smile that lingered at the corner of her mouth when he snuck quick looks at her, the way she’d sometimes touch her neck when she listened to him speak, the way she would cross her legs -- perfectly properly, but _slowly._ And she painted her fingernails. This week her nails were a pale pink. Yesterday he had admired how the colour had looked as she had stroked his cock.

_Get it together. You’re in the middle of giving a lecture._

He managed to push his thoughts of Sansa away as he turned his back, picked up a marker and demonstrated the MacLaurin series to the class. Once he had said his piece, he sat down at his desk and observed as Sansa obediently started to solve the problems he had ordered solved. She looked focused and perfectly untroubled.

He envied her. Envied her and _wanted_ her. Right here, right now.

Somehow the prim and proper exterior inflamed him even more than her temptress routine had.

When they were alone together she stopped trying to be anything but herself, however. She was neither prim nor overly sexed up. Instead she was earnest, playful and curious, and it made him feel both young and wise beyond his years at the same time.

 _”I want to learn,”_ she would whisper when they were in bed, _”I want to get it just right…”_

The first time she had ridden him, he had thought she would kill him. Just the view on its own might have done it, but add to that the way she had clenched up when she had climaxed... 

Being on top had become her favourite position after that. Although having him on top seemed to grow on her after she went on the pill and they didn’t have to bother with condoms anymore. Apparently condoms felt ‘abrasive’. 

He didn’t really miss them.

She had started to hint that she wanted to try a few different positions, however, and right now, as he watched her do her math, it was becoming harder and harder to remember that he really shouldn’t bend her over whatever piece of furniture was nearest and ask her how the experience ranked in comparison to the other positions they’d tried.

 _She’d probably hate it,_ he told himself firmly, making himself shuffle his lecture notes and keep his eyes away from her.

_Or she might love it._

The thing was, it didn’t really matter. He wanted her in any way she would agree to be with him.

He looked at her again - just for a quick moment. The sight of her stirred something inside him that he couldn’t describe. It wasn’t just arousal -- though that was still simmering away; it was big and terrifying, and it made his heart bear too hard.

When the bell rang, Stannis almost forgot to give the class homework due to his relief. Almost.

***

Sansa was supposed to go to the library right after school and work on an English paper, and she did go there. She really did. It wasn’t her fault that it was closed because of some refurbishing work that was being done.

It had been almost two weeks since she and Stannis had been able to see each other, and she really needed to kiss him. She felt a lot less lonely at school these days - even though she was still quite alone most of the time - and Stannis was a big part of the reason why. Knowing that she’d be able to spend time with him, knowing that they could talk and cuddle and explore each other, made the solitary existence she led at school almost _easy._ Her family and Jeyne helped too, but that was different. Stannis was just for her, and she was sure he’d be happy to see her.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a bit naughty, knocking on Stannis’ door instead of going straight home to work on her paper there. Not only was she ignoring her homework, but she was also _wearing her uniform._ She had never visited Stannis while still in her uniform before.

They were always very careful to keep their lives at school and their romantic life as separate as possible. It was important to keep up appearances because of the rumours Mr. Baelish had tried to start among the faculty. It really was quite lucky that no one believed him and that the whispers hadn’t reached any student ears. If Joffrey or his friends had heard about it, they wouldn’t have cared whether it was true or whether there was any proof. They’d have spread the rumour just to be cruel.

 _He must not be trying very hard to spread the rumours,_ Sansa mused to herself, not for the first time. _Maybe he just got tired of Mr. Varys trying to send him on holiday…_

As always, Stannis was quick to open his door and ask her inside. He never liked for her to linger on his doorstep. She understood why.

“I wasn’t expecting you today,” Stannis said, giving her one of his strict looks. Was it strange that they only ever made her smile nowadays? Well, that wasn’t true. Sometimes they turned her on. Like now.

“The library was closed, and my parents aren’t expecting me home until late,” she said, giving Stannis an innocent smile. “I thought maybe we could use the time.”

“I have work to do,” Stannis said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sansa took a deep breath and shrugged her coat off, paying close attention to Stannis’ eyes.

They widened.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, his face becoming flushed.

“My uniform,” Sansa said matter-of-factly. “But I can take it off if you don’t like it.” Her tie was already loose, and the top buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned. It would be easy to get undressed.

There was a tense moment where he glared at her, his nostrils flaring like they only ever did when he was particularly conflicted about something. Or particularly interested in going upstairs.

The tension broke when he took a long step forward and kissed her. She smiled into it, and made a happy noise when he started to touch her, his hands under her skirt almost before she had a chance to take a breath. He squeezed her buttocks through her tights and fondled her, kissing her passionately all the while, and she felt heat pooling low in her belly, and wetness gather between her thighs.

Feeling playful and a little silly, Sansa brought her lips to Stannis’ ear and whispered, “do you like it, Mr. Baratheon?”

Stannis groaned and moved one hand up to cup a breast. She arched her back and smiled.

“After what we discussed, I’m disappointed to see that you’re not wearing it properly, Miss Stark,” Stannis rasped, kissing her neck right after.

Her heart skipped a beat. He had never called her anything but Sansa when they were intimate. Did he want to change that because of her uniform? Or was he just playing along because she had called him Mr. Baratheon? Her blood thrummed in her veins at the thought, and a giggle bubbled up. “I’m sorry sir,” she said, “are you going to put me in detention?”

The hand on her ass gave a squeeze. “Maybe,” he said, his voice all gravel and silk. “Is that what you want?”

Her face overheated. The idea of him putting her in detention made her insides squirm. “I - I don’t know.”

“You certainly deserve it,” Stannis murmured, one hand moving up to stroke her cheek. His eyes were dark as he considered her. “Do you know what you put me through every time you’re in my classroom?”

Sansa furrowed her brow. She hadn’t teased him in _weeks._ “I’ve been trying to be good,” she said, biting her lip.

There was no blue left in his eyes. The hand on her ass squeezed again, and then it abruptly let go. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she had a chance to form a single word, he gave her ass a light swat. “Trying, but not succeeding,” he said, staring at her with a look that was somehow both strict and a little… mischievous? Playful?

She usually always got wet fairly quickly for him, but what she was experiencing now was a veritable _flood._

“Please,” she moaned, following Stannis as he started to move them to the living room. “don’t put me in detention” she continued, breathless and excited about this new game, “I promise I’ll try harder, I promise I’ll be good.”

Sansa didn’t know what she had expected Stannis to do. Maybe talk to her some more in that sexy voice? Some foreplay? But he surprised her by bending her over the back of the sofa and pushing her skirt up. He was tugging her tights and her panties down when she caught up with what he was doing; it was all happening so fast.

“Stannis!” she exclaimed, her lungs stalling and her muscles jumping with nervous tremors.

“It’s Mr. Baratheon, or sir,” he said, still tugging at her tights.

“Sir, what are you doing?” she asked, trying to straighten her back and look at him, but finding that Stannis was holding her down. He had a hand on the small of her back, and it felt about as likely to yield as an iron rod.

“What do you think?”

Blood rushed to her face as she realised what he probably meant to do. “Are you going to... spank me?” she squeaked.

Stannis’ grip loosened for a moment, and he made a small noise that sounded almost surprised. But he only faltered for a few seconds. Soon he was clearing his throat and gripping her firmly again.

“Well, I - yes. You’re in detention, after all,” he said, giving her bare ass a smack. It was more powerful than the light swat he’d given her before. There was a loud slapping noise, and it stung a bit.

 _Is he actually going to do this?_ she thought, feeling more blood warm her face. She twisted around and tried to see him, but it was difficult in her current position. She only caught a brief glimpse of him before she gave up and looked down at the sofa cushions. His brow had been furrowed in concentration.

“Are you really going to - to do it, sir?” she asked in a small voice, blushing violently and feeling unsure about whether she wanted to die from arousal, excitement, shame, or all three.

He helped her look up at him for a moment, the strict mask fading. There was a question in his eyes. _Isn’t that what you want?_

She bit her lip, considering the unspoken question. Did she want this?

Her body definitely seemed to.

She took a deep breath and shot him an encouraging look. He gave a curt nod, and then she was back in her previous position of not really being able to see him. 

He gave her ass another smack. 

_Oh._

“I’m already spanking you, Miss Stark.” He did it again, his hand coming down a little harder than before. It smarted, but her arousal only intensified.

She whimpered and squeezed her thighs together, feeling like she might start dripping on the floor otherwise. _How did this happen so quickly?_

The sharp smacks came one after another, never too many at once, and always unpredictable. She was never sure whether they would come quickly or far apart, and soon she was squirming and wriggling like a worm on a hook.

“Please- “ she moaned, feeling half crazy with need and embarrassment.

“Please what, Miss Stark?”

“Please, sir, I’ll be good,” she whined, wriggling some more. It was futile; his hand came down on her buttocks unerringly, but she still tried it.

“Yes… I think you will be.”

She held her breath, waiting for what he would do next. She had no idea whether to expect more smacks, or whether he would let her up, but the noise she heard next made her heart start to race even harder than it already was.

It was the metal clink of a belt buckle, followed by the noise of a zipper coming undone.

The hand that had been spanking her stroked her tender flesh, and moved down her cleft to her centre, stroking between her soaked folds.

It felt so good that she immediately cried out in pleasure and tried to push herself up to meet his questing fingers. He give her a tap _there_ that made her throb with need, and then… and then she felt the head of his cock pressing into her.

He’d never tried to enter her from this direction before, and she had never quite worked up the courage to ask. It seemed like a very dirty position to her, but also exciting and forbidden, and she wasn’t sure what to feel about it now. Her body had no problem with it, however. She was so wet that his cock slipped inside without any trouble, and she arched her back instinctively, helping him fit right.

A garbled noise of pleasure escaped her just in time to mingle with a groan from Stannis, and she couldn’t help but clench up due to the way they sounded together.

His hands moved to her hips, holding her tightly, and he started to thrust without any warning, and without giving her any time to get used to the idea of all this. She almost complained, but then his cock stroked a spot inside of her that she was _sure_ had never been stroked quite like that before, and she gasped in pleasure instead.

“Do you like that, Miss Stark?” Stannis asked, sounding oddly severe even though he was breathing hard.

“Yeah,” she whined.

“You - you’ve learnt your lesson?” Less severe now. More raw.

She couldn’t even answer that with words. She just moaned something incomprehensible and tried to make him go faster.

“Fuck, Sansa… you feel so good... “

“Please,” she whined. She still needed him to go faster.

“You need it, don’t you?” He was panting. “You need to be fucked just - like - _this._ ” He punctuated his last words with increasingly powerful thrusts, and the last one actually shifted the heavy sofa a little.

“Yes!” she wailed, her throat a little raw. The noises she was making didn’t sound pretty at all. They were almost animalistic, and the way she was arching her back and pushing her ass back was unladylike and animalistic, too. But she didn’t care. The orgasm that was building inside of her felt like something completely new, and she desperately wanted to reach it.

Stannis wasn’t talking anymore. He was grunting and panting, and his fingers were digging into her a little painfully, and she was sure that he was close. He was thrusting faster and faster, but he was still locked in a rhythm. He wasn’t done quite yet.

She closed her eyes and focused. It was almost like she was cramping up, and it was almost too intense to really feel good, but just liked he’d said, she just _needed_ it.

“Please, sir, please,” she gasped out, “ _harder…_ ”

The smacks that filled the room were louder and _wetter_ than the ones from before when he had been spanking her, but she barely heard them. Her blood was rushing in her ears and she was having an orgasm that put every orgasm she had ever had in her life to shame.

She screamed.

***

Stannis didn’t know what came over him. Seeing Sansa in that uniform in his _house_ \- after nearly two weeks apart - had just flipped a switch inside him that he hadn’t even suspected was there. Every instance of sexual frustration in his classroom had rushed back to him, every moment of desire he’d ever felt for her while she’d worn that damnable uniform...

The spanking had been a surprise, however. When he had bent her over he had only had one thought in his head, and that had been to get inside her. But once she planted the idea it had been impossible to resist.

Especially since it seemed to excite her.

He’d do anything to please her.

Judging by the way she was screaming and clenching up around his cock like a vice, milking him so powerfully that he was fairly sure he’d be too sore to fuck her again for a couple of days, she was _well_ pleased.

He wanted to carry her to bed after, but his legs were too weak. They collapsed onto the sofa instead, and he held her trembling body close, whispering endearments to her, unable to help himself.

“Ssh, darling, that’s it, sweetheart, you’re okay… you’re okay, love...”

She stopped shivering and cuddled closer.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she said after a while, her voice a little punch-drunk. “You _spanked_ me.”

“Did it hurt?” he asked, shame welling up in the pit of his stomach. Sansa was tall for a woman, but she was a lot more delicate than he was.

“A little,” Sansa said, pouting in a theatrical way that put his mind at ease. If she were genuinely in pain she’d act more serious.

He kissed her, knowing her that it was probably what she was after.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he said apologetically once their lips parted.

“I liked it,” Sansa said, blushing and averting her eyes. “I _really_ liked it.”

“Yes?”

“Well, you could have gone a little easier on me,” she amended, pouting again, “I’m not really looking forward to sitting on the hard chairs at school tomorrow. But yeah… it was sexy.”

He felt a shameful pulse of arousal at the idea of her squirming in all her classes tomorrow. “And the new position?” he asked, too curious to contain himself.

“Good,” she said, hiding her face immediately after. “Really really good.” Her voice was muffled, but easily understandable. She peeked up at him. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but there was an impish gleam in her eyes. “Maybe you should put me in detention more often?”

His lips twitched. “If you like.”

She kissed him.

“Come on,” he said when they broke apart, feeling his chest expand and fill with warmth. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“I’m not sure I can have any more sex,” Sansa said, shooting him an anxious look.

He shook his head. “I doubt I could, either.”

This calmed her down, and she followed him to bed without another word. He stripped them both naked, lingering over the task of taking her uniform off, committing everything about it to memory. It was wrong on many levels for him to be stripping her school uniform off. It was even worse that he was enjoying it. Thus, he was determined to let himself have this experience only _once,_ and he wanted to remember it. The way it felt to unknot her loose tie, the way the shirt buttons popped open, the sound of her pleated skirt falling to the floor…

 _I have to resign soon,_ he thought as he let his hands ghost over her bare thighs.

Once they were in bed, he stroked her hair and her back, enjoying the little purrs she made in response.

“Did you mean it?” she asked sleepily after a while, her body hot against his as he held her. They fit together like they were two halves of a whole, and it Stannis doubted he’d ever get tired of having her so close.

“Mean what?”

“When you called me ‘love’ before?”

His stomach did somersaults and flips and his throat went very dry. “Yes.”

“You love me?” She moved to look at him, her eyes were huge and full of hope.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

She leaned closer to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms around her to press her as close as humanly possible.

“I love you, too.”

Happiness consumed him, and Stannis knew in that moment that it didn’t matter that his career as an educator was over. He had found something more important. 

Some _one_ more important.

**The end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short epilogue to come!


	10. Epilogue

“I have an announcement,” Stannis said, making use of a lull in the dinner conversation.

Robert, Tywin and Tyrion all looked at him, but Cersei glanced at the ceiling and tightened her grip on her glass of wine. Renly and Jaime raised their brows at one another.

“Well?” Robert said, impatience in his tone. “What is it?”

“I’ve decided to resign.”

Cersei’s lip curled into an amused smirk, and she cast Jaime a look Stannis couldn’t interpret. Tywin looked mildly intrigued, and Tyrion pursed his lips thoughtfully. Robert and Renly were gaping at him.

“Resign?” Robert repeated, blinking rapidly.

“Yes. I’ve been offered a position with the Iron Bank,” Stannis said calmly. He watched Tywin’s expression carefully. Stannis was sure it would be fascinating to gain access to certain financial records. He was mostly looking forward to digging into Baelish’s records, but judging by the way Tywin was clenching his jaw it might be interesting to see where the Old Lion stood with the renowned bank. “They tell me they always need good mathematicians.”

“You’re leaving to be a bloody banker?” Robert blustered, his face growing splotchy. “What about the school?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone competent to fill my post,” Stannis said. “But I’ll finish the school year.”

“Not much left of the year,” Robert muttered. “The seniors are graduating in two weeks.”

“Consider this my two week’s notice,” Stannis said, sipping his water.

“Why now?” Tywin asked, his cold eyes searching Stannis’ face.

Renly let out laugh. “Haven’t you heard?” he asked, throwing back a gulp of wine. “Stannis is having a torrid affair with a student.”

Jaime and Tyrion chuckled. Robert and Cersei rolled their eyes. Tywin did not look amused.

“The time seemed right,” Stannis said, keeping his face blank.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Which branch of the Iron Bank will you be working for?” Cersei suddenly asked, drawing a few surprised looks. It wasn’t like her to show an interest in such things.

“The branch in the stormlands,” Stannis said. He had been very pleased when he’d found out that there was a position available there. He had been born and raised in the stormlands, and he missed Storm’s End. It would be good to go back.

In any case, Sansa had been been admitted to the same University he had gone to, so it only made sense for him to find work nearby.

Cersei perked up. “So you’ll be moving away, then?”

“Yes.”

“How wonderful.” She lifted her glass in a toast. “To new beginnings,” she said, her voice like poisoned honey.

The others toasted too, though Robert didn’t look pleased about it. Tywin glared over the rim of his glass.

 _New beginnings indeed,_ Stannis thought, glancing at his watch. He had promised to help Sansa study after dinner. Hopefully dessert would be served soon. He never ate dessert, so none of his _delightful_ dinner companions would be surprised if he left at that point.

He couldn’t wait to see her.

***

Last fall, Sansa would not have believed that she could ever enjoy having a math tutor. Much less having Stannis Baratheon, ‘The Robot’, as her personal math tutor.

She would definitely not have believed that she could ever have fallen in love with him, and that _he_ could have fallen in love with her, too.

“Sansa. Concentrate.”

“I’m trying,” she said, giving a small huff of exasperation. “It’s just hard. I’m so excited that you told your family that you’re resigning!”

“That’s not what you should be thinking about right now.” His tone was strict, but not _terribly._ She could tell he wasn’t annoyed.

“Did Mr. Lannister really seem worried when he heard you’d be working for the bank?” she asked for the third time. The idea was thrilling, but she was still a little sceptical. She had _never_ seen Mr. Lannister look worried about anything.

Stannis’ lips twitched. “A little. Now focus.”

Pleased that she’d made him smile, Sansa hurriedly finished writing down the solution to the problem he’d had her working on.

“Show me.”

She handed her calculations over, butterflies fluttering furiously in her belly.

Stannis examined them, his brow furrowed.

Breathing became difficult as she watched him look over her work, but she needed oxygen to live, so she painstakingly made herself fill her lungs.

“Incorrect,” Stannis finally pronounced, lifting a brow. 

Sansa felt blood rush to her face, and a different sort of heat rush to her… other places. 

“Well?” He sounded impatient, but there was a certain fondness in his eyes that reassured her. “You know what to do.”

Sansa got up and walked over to him, biting her lip and still blushing. No matter how often she got a problem wrong and had to endure this, she always blushed.

As always, she accepted her calculations back from Stannis and laid them on his desk. She listened very carefully as he explained what she needed to correct and tightened her hold on her pencil. Stannis got her a fresh piece of paper and laid it down next to her incorrect calculations. Without being asked, she bent over, her pencil poised to write even as her ass stuck out behind her.

 _It was your own idea,_ she reminded herself. It had seemed clever and sexy and fun. And it _was._ It was just also a bit inconvenient to be forced to hide the red imprints on her butt when Arya inevitably refused to respect her privacy and walked into the bathroom while Sansa was showering.

She swallowed when she felt Stannis lift her skirt and lower her panties.

“Hmm. You won’t be able to put these on again. They’re soaked through.”

She squeezed her pencil and whimpered. Stannis’ voice just _did things_ to her.

The plastic ruler felt cold against her bare skin.

“You may start writing,” Stannis said, smacking her ass once with the ruler.

She hurriedly started to copy the calculations that had been right, trying to concentrate so she wouldn’t miss the part she was supposed to correct. She wrote as fast as she could, knowing that Stannis would start out slow, but that he would spank her faster after the first minute, and _harder_ after the second.

The ruler came down hard. She yelped. _It hasn’t been two minutes yet!_

“Mind your handwriting,” Stannis said, his tone strict. “You’ll have to do it over if your figures are barely legible.” He smacked her left buttock with the ruler again, hard enough to sting.

She moaned and focused on keeping her script neat, even though all she wanted to do was spread her thighs and have him fuck her as hard as he could.

He spanked her, the plastic ruler slapping obscenely against her skin. “I know what you’re thinking, Miss Stark,” he said in his low, raspy voice. “And I won’t fuck you until you get ten problems in a row right. You know that.”

She nodded and tried to write faster, ignoring the way she ached for him, ignoring the slippery feel of her skin when she squeezed her thighs together.

Hopefully she’d get the next ten problems right.

***

Sansa smiled as she looked at her report card. Her graduation ceremony was looming, and the summer seemed to stretch into infinity when she looked ahead to the future.

“How did you manage that?” Robb asked her, looking over her shoulder. “A 100% in the Robot’s math class?” He sounded completely incredulous.

Sansa shot him an innocent smile. She was not about to tell him that Stannis had helped her study, rewarding her whenever she got a problem right, and punishing her whenever she fell into a trap. Though the punishments were fun, she liked the rewards a lot more, and she had worked very hard for them. By the time Stannis was through with her, she had never felt more confident about her abilities. The test had been easy after all that studying, and she knew she had earned every single bit of her grade.

Robb would never believe that, though.

“I did extra credit,” she said, her smile widening a fraction.

She didn’t care that everyone would think that she’d _done things_ for the grade once she and Stannis went public after graduation. No one would be able to prove it. Not even Mr. Baelish who had been watching them since Christmas. They had always been careful, and Mr. Baelish had no proof. If he tried to convince everyone that he’d been right all along, Sansa was prepared to swear up and down than Stannis had never touched her until she was no longer his student.

It wouldn’t really matter, though. Stannis was quitting and moving on to work for the Iron Bank in the stormlands, so it wasn’t as if his teaching career would be ruined if everyone believed Mr. Baelish. 

Once Sansa started to attend the University of Storm’s End they were going to move in together.

A fresh start.

But first Sansa had the entire summer to look forward to, and Stannis had promised to take her to Dorne. (Sansa was pretty sure they’d need a vacation after they came out to their families.)

“Extra credit?” Robb asked, sounding sceptical.

“Yep,” Sansa said cheerfully. “ _Massive_ amounts.”

**Super really the end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the lovely comments and the enthusiastic support! You make the Stansa yacht what it is. ♥
> 
> Special thanks to [sansafeels](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sansafeels/pseuds/sansafeels) for the awesome graphic she let me use as a header!


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